


Cynosure

by phalangine



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2018-11-23 11:04:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 24,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11401227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phalangine/pseuds/phalangine
Summary: a series of spones ficlets





	1. Balance

**Author's Note:**

> this is all karikes' fault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> g, canon ‘verse, from this post of AUs (http://thepeasantthatstooduptothegod.tumblr.com/post/158551063528/aus-based-on-my-life)  
> "I just got on the bus and the asshole driver started going again and I fell into your lap AU"

If there's one thing Leonard hates, it's the bus. They're supposed to be past taking buses, yet here they are, filing into one like old school kids on their way out for a field trip.

Leonard, tragically, is somewhat behind the rest. It's an outing specifically for the science track, and without Jim yapping at him, Leonard slept past his alarm.

He just manages to make it on a few seconds behind the last person.

All the seats in the front are already doubled up- even Chapel, who promised to save him a seat, shrugs at him helplessly. Leonard nods at her as he passes, calmly accepting his fate. He's just about at the back when the goddamn driver takes his foot off the brake and the bus lurches forward. Leonard falls over, barely managing not to land on his face by swinging himself onto a seat.

It's just his luck that he lands in the damn man's lap. Spock looks as startled as Leonard feels.

Swallowing hard, Leonard opens his mouth to apologize, only for the bus to lurch ahead again and send him sprawling wider across Spock's lap.

"Are you all right, Doctor?" Spock asks. He has a hand low on Leonard's back, firmly keeping him in place as the bus takes a sharp turn.

"Just dandy, Spock," Leonard says quickly. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to get up and find a place to sit."

"I do not mind," Spock says, just as quickly. "However, I believe mine is the only seat not already occupied by two beings."

Craning his neck, Leonard peers over the back of the seat and discovers, to his his chagrin, that Spock is right. The seat behind them and the one across from it are full of ensigns.

With a cough, Leonard settles back. "In that case, I hope you won't mind sharing."

"Not at all, Doctor. I suspect you will have much input of interest on this trip. I would be... intrigued to hear what you think of it."

Never let it be said that Leonard can't talk about his field- this is a trip serving to further educate science officers on biological factors they may have to take into account on other planets and the impact those factors will have on the native populations. It isn't quite medicine, but being a good doctor means working around foreign situations.

It's a little surprising Spock hasn't already read a hundred books on this, but he's a busy guy.

Sliding off Spock's lap- and there's a phrase he won't be relaying to Jim- Leonard gets situated next to Spock.

"We should start with Orions," he begins, and Spock puts his listening face on.


	2. Felidae

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> g, canon 'verse, established relationship

They're in bed, Leonard sitting up against the headboard and Spock lying on his belly, face mashed into his pillow, when it happens.

Leonard doesn't mean to do it. He's absently rubbing Spock's back with one hand, the other holding up his PADD he's using to read a journal, when his hand strays lower than he intends and Spock-

Well, Spock makes a sound that's definitely a purr.

Leonard feels his brows shoot up his forehead.

Spock resolutely doesn't look at him, but Leonard can't miss the tension radiating off him.

So Leonard, ever a man of science, does it again. He drags his fingers down Spock's spine until he reaches the low-riding waistband of his boxers. This time, not only does Spock let out a loud purr but he arches into Leonard's hand.

"Well, hello," Leonard says, surprised in the best way.

Spock coughs lightly, his cheeks flushed green. "You will recall, doctor, that Vulcans are descended from cats."

"I do, but I've never read anything about y'all having that same sweet spot, though."

"Well, now you know."

"That I do." Leonard smirks at him and digs his fingers into the spot harder. Spock purrs loudly and pushes into Leonard's hand- if he had a tail, Leonard is certain it would be wrapped around his wrist.

Damn aliens. They're always so weird.

He continues to knead the base of Spock's spine, getting more of that uncanny purring as he does, while he reads. Spock seems content to let him, his purring interrupted only by occasional sighs.

Eventually it comes time for bed and Leonard sets his PADD aside.

"All right, you," he says softly. "How disappointed are you going to be when I stop?"

"I will be devastated, Leonard."

"Ha ha. You're a bucket of laughs."

Spock turns his head to level Leonard with a withering gaze. "I will be fine. While I find the sensation pleasant, it is by no means more important to me than ensuring you sleep adequately."

"Be careful, Spock. I might start to think you care."

Vulcans are above mimicking people insultingly, but if they weren't, Leonard knows from Spock's expression that that's exactly what his husband would be doing- Spock is, after all, half human.

"I take it you are ready to turn the lights out," Spock says instead.

Leonard nods and, removing his hand from Spock, scoots down so he can rest his head on his pillow. Spock turns fully onto his side to face him.

"You are not displeased? I know displays of my Vulcan blood can discomfort you."

Leonard snorts. "Spock, you aren't human. I signed up for that a long time ago." Sobering, he adds, "And it's not the blood that bothers me. It's the thought of you outliving me that gets to me."

"I will miss you," Spock says softly.

"Don't think I won't be keeping an eye on you," Leonard warns. "'Cause I will. The whole time, from death till you come get find me again."

Spock smiles. "I will take comfort in that. Although, must you watch everything?"

"I must. Absolutely everything."

Nose crinkling in distaste, Spock sighs. "As you wish. Lights, ten percent."

As the lights dim, Leonard presses his hand to Spock's. "Goodnight, you obnoxious know-it-all."

Spock tangles their fingers together. "Goodnight, my love."


	3. Red Rover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t, canon 'verse, from this post of AUs (http://thepeasantthatstooduptothegod.tumblr.com/post/158551063528/aus-based-on-my-life)  
> "you’re my best friend of seven years but one day you squeeze my ass and I accidentally moan and it kinda turns you on"

Leonard, Spock has long known, is not nearly as severe as his expression would lead people to think. Under the crotchety grumblings and insults lies a man capable of almost childlike glee from the smallest, most ridiculous things.

For example: hiding whoopie cushions throughout Med Bay.

He's only gotten Spock with them once, but once was more than enough. Spock is fortunate that Jim wasn't there to bear witness, only Leonard and an easily intimidated yeoman. Although, the racket Leonard made when he realized what happened ought to have been loud enough to reach even the bridge. His laughter had been startling in its volume and annoying in its persistence.

Spock is careful to test tables and chairs before sits now.

The whoopie cushion was not a one-off event, however. Leonard has also put black ink on microscopes, tampered with food, balanced buckets of some sort of pink slime on top of doors...

It's a harmless pastime, Spock has been assured. No one ever gets hurt- except perhaps the doctor when someone gets annoyed enough to give chase. Even Spock has enjoyed some of the pranks Leonard has pulled, especially ones that lift Jim's spirits when the weight of the captain's chair seems to settle heavily on him. He remains skeptical of them, particularly their frequency, but he no longer winces when he hears a surprised shout out of the blue.

That said, Spock isn't certain what to make of Leonard's latest prank.

They've just gotten back from a grueling mission where they both got injured, and Spock has one of his arms draped over Leonard's shoulders, while Leonard is holding Spock's waist. They linger on the transporter, both exhausted and relieved to be safe. They're leaning into each other hard, just breathing. Spock can feel the exhaustion catching up with him; he can only imagine that Leonard is also feeling it.

He is about to retrieve his arm when Leonard's hand slips down Spock's side. It moves over his hip and comes to rest on the curve of his backside. Before Spock can ask what Leonard is doing, Leonard gives him a squeeze.

The noise Spock makes is humiliating. It's loud and pleased and decidedly not a sound he should be making in front of his crew mates.

He expects to see Leonard smirking as he usually does when he's pulled a prank, yet when Spock glances over, Leonard looks anything but smug. Instead, he looks... anticipatory. His eyes are open wide, his face tilted up, lips parted. He's clearly waiting for something.

But what?

Spock swallows hard. "Leonard-"

"Spock!" Jim calls, skittering into view. "Bones!"

Leonard turns away, his hand sliding off Spock, as Jim comes closer. "The locals are all good now," he says brusquely. "If you need me, I'll be in Med Bay- as will you, Mr. Spock."

With that, he straightens his uniform sharply and marches away.

Spock and Jim watch him go.

"Was it something I said?" Jim asks.

Spock shakes his head. "I suspect I may have upset the doctor, Captain. I will make amends presently," he adds as an afterthought. He doesn't wait for Jim to play the plan, just steps off the pad and stalks after Leonard.

Thanks in part to the injury the doctor received to his knee, Spock catches up with him in the hall before he can reach Med Bay.

"Doctor," he says when he reaches Leonard, feeling suddenly out of place. "I believe there is something between us that needs discussing."

Leonard narrows his eyes, his infamous temper flaring to life behind them. "And what might that be."

"What you did on the pad," Spock says. "I believe we ought to discuss it."

"It was a joke," Leonard snaps. "A bad one, fine, but there's no need for us discussing it."

"I disagree."

Leonard's brow lifts. "Well, too bad." He makes to move away, but Spock blocks him with a hand against the wall. "Spock, let me go."

"I do not believe that would be wise," Spock counters. "You are upset. I would like to know why."

"I'm fine."

"You are not."

Leonard's jaw works as he comes up with another rebuttal.

As Leonard thinks, a theory takes root in Spock's mind. Once it occurs to him, the evidence is glaring.

"Leonard," Spock begins, taking a step closer. "I do not believe your actions earlier were a joke."

"Leave it alone."

Spock takes another step into Leonard's space. Humans don't like being cornered. They uniformly react poorly when they feel their personal space is being invaded. If this were abnormal encounter, Leonard would shove Spock away.

Instead, he glares at Spock's face.

"It has occurred to me," Spock continues, "that your treatment of me goes beyond even your generous displays of platonic friendship."

"Now wait just a minute-"

"I would like to kiss you."

Leonard freezes. He stares up at Spock, eyes wide once more, before he grabs the front of Spock's uniform.

"I don't like being made fun of."

An interesting sentiment given Leonard's tendency to poke fun at nearly everything, but Spock can work on unpacking that later.

"I am not making fun of you," he insists.

Leonard snorts, clearly disbelieving.

Spock recalls Jim telling him that Leonard's last serious relationship ended because his wife cheated on him- Jim also mentioned that due to his former wife's actions, Leonard has difficulty believing himself worthy. (This troubles Spock; he has never met a worthier man than Leonard. Even Jim, for all his goodness, is not as steadfast as Leonard.) It is logical, then, that Leonard would remain skeptical that Spock, means what he says.

After all, Leonard has no idea that Spock has harbored feelings for him since he brought Jim back to life.

There are ways of taking shortcuts with humans, however. Where logic fails them, simple actions can spark revelations.

So Spock leans in and presses a kiss to Leonard's lips.

When he pulls away, Leonard is breathing hard.

"You aren't joking," he says, voice rough.

"I am not."

Spock watches Leonard's throat work as he swallows.

"I wasn't either. On the transporter."

Spock nods. As much as he would like to kiss Leonard again, preferably with reciprocation this time, there are other, more pressing things.

"We need to be seen to by your staff."

Leonard blinks. "I- uh, yeah. Let's go."

Spock lets Leonard take a few steps ahead and smiles to himself. Perhaps practical jokes serve a purpose after all.


	4. Meditations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t, non-starfleet au, from this list of AUs (http://thepeasantthatstooduptothegod.tumblr.com/post/158551063528/aus-based-on-my-life)  
> content warning: alcohol  
> "we live in adjacent apartments and one day I accidentally knocked a hole in the wall and into your living room I’m really sorry oh my god you’re naked"

Leonard has never been a particularly calm person. Sure, he's a top surgeon, but that's a matter of channeling his energy into something productive. Outside the O.R. he doesn't need that hyper focus, so he winds up trying to burn off the extra energy any way he can.

When he was younger he enjoyed going for runs, but his knees have started protesting. He already does as much time at the gym as he can take- the tedium of reps and running in place eventually only makes the situation worse. He could go out with Jim, but going out with Jim isn't the sort of thing a person who can't be hungover at work the next day ought to do during the work week.

One of the hospital's residents, Chekov, swears by yoga- as does Leonard's landlord. Sulu knows how twitchy Leonard gets, and he's cornered him more than once about taking up the practice.

Leonard is more than a little wary, for reasons he can't quite place, but eventually he gives in and buys a mat and a book that looks like it's going to be straightforward.

Now he's got the book on the ground, open to the first page of the first routine, and he's accepting that he's a man who wears leggings recreationally. When Jim inevitably finds out, Leonard just knows it's going to suck.

That's a matter for another day. for the moment, he just has to take a deep breath, let it out, and bend forward.

The moment his head gets parallel with his hips, he starts to sway.

Doing this drunk was probably not the great idea he thought it was.

He gets through a few poses with a little wobbling, but that comes to an end when the book starts telling him to take one foot off the floor. The wobbling gets worse. Leonard’s center of balance feels like it’s six feet over his head. That should tell him it’s time to stop.

The problem is, Leonard has always been driven. He finishes what he starts.

So rather than sit back and recover, he plows on.

Right until he has to go from being bent in half with his head facing his knees to standing tall. That’s what does him in. He goes too quickly, and instead of gracefully flowing into a standing position, Leonard winds up flinging himself backwards into the wall.

Which, because he’s still living in a cheap apartment with thin walls, he falls through- and lands right on his neighbor.

It’s the quiet guy with the awful haircut who keeps to himself and barely seems willing to return Leonard’s morning nod. The one Sulu told him to be nice to because he just got broken up with six months ago. (Sulu has Ben, and the two are a devastatingly sweet couple. Time works differently for him.)

What was this guy’s name again?

And, more pressing, why the hell is he sitting around naked?

The guy’s eyes narrow, and Leonard realizes he said that last bit aloud. Luckily for him, he’s drunk, so rather than get embarrassed, he just smiles up at his neighbor and says, “Howdy.”

His neighbor doesn’t smile back. “Will you be removing yourself from my lap yourself, or will you require my help?”

Leonard thinks about that for a while. “Do I have to get up?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“You’re certain?”

“Absolutely.”

Unfortunate, because despite the haircut, the guy is actually good looking. His ears are kinda funny, though, and his face is tinged green across the cheeks-

“Oh, you’re a Vulcan.”

“Well deduced. Now, if you would please _get up_ …”

Leonard does, albeit reluctantly. It’s been a while since he had company that wasn’t his hand. “You should tell me your name.”

“I fail to see why.”

He has a point, but even three sheets to the wind, Leonard’s mother’s voice is loud in his ears. “I’m gonna have to apologize later about this- and pay to fix the wall. It’d be good if I knew who to address the letter to.”

“There is no need-”

“There is every need.”

The guy tilts his head, visibly considering the wisdom of giving his name to Leonard, before sighing and saying, “Spock.”

Leonard quirks a smile at him. “Nice meeting you, Spock.”

With that, he turns and squeezes himself back through the hole in the wall.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Two days later, Leonard puts on a nice pair of slacks and a polo, grabs his letter and the pie he made that morning, and knocks on Spock’s door.

It doesn’t take long for Spock to answer. He swings the door open and silently regards Leonard with a quirked eyebrow. He isn’t naked this time.

Leonard isn’t sure whether he’s relieved or disappointed.

“I see you’ve come back.”

Leonard nods and extends his pie and the apology letter. “I’m sorry about the other night.”

“It was an accident.”

“Yeah, well, I still feel bad about it. So take the pie and let me pay to fix the wall, all right?”

“My mother would be disappointed in me if I did not invite you in.”

Leonard blinks, thrown. “I wasn’t aware that was a Vulcan custom.”

“It is not,” Spock says mildly. “My mother is human.”

 _Ah._ “You don’t have to let me in if you don’t want to.”

“I am aware. I have extended the invitation because, despite my misgivings, you are the most interesting person I have met here.”

Despite Leonard’s misgivings, he steps inside.

 

**_xx_ **

 

One week later, he finds out that getting fucked into a mattress by an annoyed Vulcan is the best way to burn off extra energy.


	5. Telemetry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t bordering on m. sentinel/guide canon au

Spock manifests as a sentinel when he is thirteen. His mother hugs him tight when the healers pronounce him healthy and merely in need of further meditation to gain control of his howling senses and, if possible, a guide to ground him. He pretends her touch doesn’t make him feel sick.

Years pass, and Spock begins to doubt whether he will ever meet the guide for him. Too many try to manipulate him some way or another. They wheedle and cajole and beg and scheme. More often than not, Spock leaves them behind feeling more out of sync with his body than he felt before he met them.

Gradually, he accepts that he is one of the sentinels who has no guide. Perhaps, he thinks, it has to do with his Vulcan heritage. Vulcans have no equivalent to the human sentinel and guide dichotomy. They are only Vulcan, or not Vulcan.

Except when they are both, as Spock is.

He remains convinced of his destiny as a guide-less sentinel through the ceremony after they defeat the Romulans. The captain is giving a speech, and Spock is trying to pay attention. He can't seem to ignore the glaring sunlight behind Jim, though. It feels as if it's needling at his very eyes, and soon there are tears welling up in his eyes. They aren't out of place- many of the gathered crew members are openly weeping- but they frustrate him.

That's when a voice to his left drawls, "I thought you Vulcans didn't do emotion."

The voice belongs to Leonard McCoy, the Enterprise's new CMO and a close friend of Kirk's.

When Spock glances over, one of McCoy’s eyebrows is quirked, waiting for Spock to respond.

"The sun is bright," Spock says evenly.

McCoy cocks his head, a thoughtful expression passing over his mobile features. "Sentinel?"

Spock nods, and a moment later, McCoy kicks his ankle. It isn’t a gentle kick. Spock bites his tongue to keep from shouting, but he can't help narrowing his eyes at McCoy.

McCoy gives him a sharp smile. "You're not thinking about the sun anymore, are you?"

He isn't, Spock is forced to concede. He doesn't have to say it aloud; from his expression, McCoy obviously knows his ploy worked.

This, Spock will later learn, is a typical example of McCoy's form of guiding.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Guides, Spock was taught, share certain intrinsic characteristics. They are kind people, devoted, naturally given to caretaking. They are intelligent and quick-minded but not forceful. Their ancestral job, according to anthropologists, was to keep the peace, and despite civilization’s progress, modern guides retain that instinct.

Sentinels, on the other hand, are forces of nature. They have heightened senses, heightened healing. They are protective and fierce, as well as intelligent- but where guides can intuit human behavior, sentinel intelligence is rooted in the world around them. They were the hunters, the patrollers.

Leonard McCoy is like no guide Spock has ever met. He is the opposite of peaceable. He is sharp-tongued and belligerent. He challenges Spock at every turn.

Yet it works. The longer Spock spends with him, the more grounded he feels.

Spock would be embarrassed at how long it takes to realize McCoy is his guide if he weren't at such a loss over what to do with the realization. Does McCoy know? Should Spock tell him? If he doesn't know, how should Spock tell him? If he does know, why has he kept quiet? Is it a silent rejection? Or is he just waiting for Spock to broach the subject?

There are no answers in the evidence he has at hand, so Spock is forced to go to the source: McCoy himself.

 

**_xx_ **

 

"I wondered when you'd figure it out."

Spock pauses halfway between the doors and McCoy. The doctor is giving him a knowing smirk, the corner of his lips quirked up.

"Nurse Chapel, do you mind taking over for a bit?” he asks, turning to look back at her. “Commander Spock and I have a private matter to discuss."

She nods without question, though she looks deeply curious, and McCoy gestures for Spock to follow him into his office. Spock goes without complaint, slipping inside and taking a seat in the chair opposite McCoy's.

"So," McCoy begins, "you're my sentinel."

Spock nods. "I believe I am." He hesitates, wanting to ask his question but not wanting to set McCoy off. "What led you to discover our relationship?"

McCoy's smirk widens into a proper smile. "You aren't very subtle, Spock- though in fairness, no sentinel is." Spock frowns, and McCoy elaborates, "Did you know you scent me?"

"I what?"

"You scent me. Whenever you get close to me, you close your eyes and breathe through your nose. I won't lie- it was off-putting at first. Once I figured out that you were just doing what biology compels you to do... Well, it's part of my job to recognize the signs of a potential bond."

"And you do not object?"

"I don't." McCoy's smile softens. "I like being a guide, and I'm good at it- I nearly became a loaner instead of a doctor, you know."

Spock's stomach drops. He's heard of loaner guides, humans who agree to aid sentinel after sentinel who isn't bonded to them. It's a difficult job, one with a high rate of guide injury and depression, but it keeps sentinels from getting hurt by their own heightened senses- and, critically, from hurting anyone else. Some still look down on the career, calling it tantamount to prostitution, which confuses him, as Spock finds nothing to disparage in either career.

If McCoy had indeed become a loaner, Spock has no doubt that he would have helped a great many sentinels. Yet the thought of him teasing and fighting with other sentinels makes Spock feel sick.

McCoy gives him a knowing look- he is a doctor after all, so he must be familiar with the more... base tendencies of the sentinel psyche- but refrains from commenting. "I loved medicine too much, lucky for you," he says instead. "And for Starfleet. I hear your reputation has gotten decidedly more positive since we were assigned to the _Enterprise_ together."

Spock is aware of the shift in his public perception. He isn't certain how he feels about being known as approachable now, but he supposes there's little he can do about it.

He has other, more pressing matters to attend to, and McCoy somehow predicts him.

"Why don't you come here?" He smiles, warm and indulgent, as he pushes his chair back. "I know that hindbrain of your is just dying to get better acquainted with me."

He’s right, and Spock doesn't argue. He simply gets to his feet and walks over to where McCoy is sitting. He hesitates for a moment next to McCoy's knee before shaking his head and straddling McCoy's thighs. The new position brings them close, the closest they've ever been to each other.

Spock can smell him perfectly. It's like no other scent; even the standard issue soap smells alluring on McCoy.

"There you go again," McCoy says softly. His voice is fond. "Such a primitive behavior for someone so evolved."

Spock ignores the teasing in favor of taking McCoy's hands in his. They're softer than he expected, with long, dexterous fingers and wide palms. He can easily imagine all the things McCoy might do with them. Saving lives, yes, but other things, too. Things he might only do with Spock...

Spock doesn't think before leans in and kisses McCoy. It's an instinctive act, one that would embarrass him if McCoy didn't respond as quickly as he does, if he didn't make that soft, desperate sound in the back of his throat.

It's easy to kiss him. Spock could lose himself in the feeling; the warm slide of their tongues is hypnotic, the way McCoy's scent seems to get stronger intoxicating.

Spock scoots farther up McCoy's thighs so they're sitting flush together.

McCoy frees one of his hands and raises it to Spock's face, gently pushing him back. Spock resists at first, but McCoy is firm.

"Is something wrong, Doctor?" Spock asks. The roughness of his voice is a surprise to him, but it makes McCoy smile.

"Not at all," he says easily, "though you ought to call me Leonard."

Spock swallows. "I believe I will. Leonard." The name feels good on his tongue, and saying it makes Leonard smile grow even wider.

"Smart man. Now, what do you say we take this somewhere more private?"

Distantly, Spock thinks that is not the Vulcan way. But as he was reminded so often as a child, he is not a Vulcan. He is half-human. He is allowed to have the foibles of a man- some of them, anyway.

"Let us go."

 

**_xx_ **

 

Leonard collapses onto the bed with a sigh. Spock lingers above him, taking in the sweaty lines of Leonard's body. He traces a finger through the mess on Leonard's belly and feels a strong sense of satisfaction.

This was not the first time he had sex, but it is the first time he feels the desire to stay in the moment. To remain as close as he can. He wants to keep smelling himself on Leonard, wants to keep touching the bruises on his thighs, wants to hear the heavy puffs as he works to catch his breath.

"We will have to tell Jim," Spock says.

Leonard groans. "Please don't talk about Jim when I'm in the afterglow."

"He is our captain. As we are both officers, there is paperwork to fill out and-"

"I'm not saying we shouldn't," Leonard sighs. "I just don't want to think about his stupid face right now. Or about filing things in triplicate." He tugs Spock down so he's lying flat atop Leonard. "I want to think about you and how good I feel."

 _Oh._ "I see."

"Do you now? That's good."

It _is_ good. Spock noses at Leonard's neck and sighs happily. They will have to bathe soon, but for now, Spock feels light and content. Happy. Truly happy, with no reservations.

He understands now how his parents could withstand the disapproval of so many Vulcans. There is nothing Spock would not face to keep Leonard.


	6. Tutoring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t, canon 'verse, established relationship

Leonard drags himself to Spock's quarters after a long day in Med Bay. If he didn't know for certain that Spock would hunt him down and look at him disapprovingly, he wouldn't go. He's tired and his head hurts, and he just wants to go to bed.

Instead, Spock has to drill more diplomacy lessons into him.

Leonard bites back a groan as he knocks on the door.

It opens quickly, and he steps inside- and nearly has a heart attack when he lays his eyes on Spock, who's dressed in nothing but a light robe.

"Spock!"

"Hello, Leonard. There is no reason to shout." He quirks a brow. "You have seen me in greater undress than this."

"Not with the lights on," Leonard hisses, feeling himself flush. "What are you doing?"

"Preparing for your lesson."

That isn't what it looks like Spock is doing, and Leonard tells him so.

"It occurred to me that perhaps your problem with diplomacy comes not from a lack of knowledge or understanding but from the sense that diplomacy is unpleasant. I would like to show you otherwise." Spock gestures at Leonard. "You may undress yourself."

Intrigued despite himself, Leonard does.

Spock takes a seat on the bed and scoots back so his back is to the wall. "Now come here."

Leonard goes, straddling Spock's thighs when instructed and making himself comfortable.

"This doesn't feel like any lesson I had at the Academy."

Spock quirks an eyebrow at him. "Of course not. You are special, Leonard."

"Teacher's pet, am I?"

"Must you?"

Leonard looks away. "Sorry. It's not like you not to tell me exactly what you're going to do." And damned if Leonard hadn't found out just how much he liked that. It had felt dissonant at first, Spock's smooth way of speaking and the filthy things he'd said, but Leonard has come to enjoy it. Being the only one who hears Spock talk like that is... well, it makes Leonard flush.

"I did not mean to make you uncomfortable," Spock says as he fits his hands to Leonard's hips. "I merely intended to surprise you."

Leonard puts his own hands on Spock's shoulders, feeling the breadth of them. "Well, it worked."

"Good. Now, I believe we should begin with this: Diplomacy is not the Kobayashi Maru. It is not unwinnable."

"Strictly speaking, neither was your test."

"Leonard."

"Right, right. You're doing your thing. Carry on."

"Thank you." Spock clears his throat. "As I was saying, diplomacy is not a no win scenario. It can, in fact, be the best tool we have." He pauses, tilting his head. "For example, if you were to demand I take off my robe, or were you to attempt to remove it yourself, I would resist you. But if you were to offer me something I like, something you know you can give me, then we both get something we want."

This ought to feel ridiculous, but Leonard feels heat pooling in his belly instead. "What sort of something can I interest you in?" he asks, voice low.

Spock smiles. "I would like a kiss, Ambassador."

Leonard returns his smile and leans down for a brief, sweet kiss before he pulls away again. "I like how you think, Commander. What if I want a kiss this time?"

"How fortunate," Spock replies. "Our desires are aligned. A second kiss would benefit us both."

Leaning in again, Leonard captures Spock's lips a deeper kiss, one that makes Spock's fingers dig into Leonard's hips.

"You know," Leonard drawls, "it seems unfair that I'm the only naked one here. What can I bring you to make us even?"

Spock hums. "I think I may have an idea."

As it turns out, Spock has more than one idea, and Leonard is more than happy with every one Spock shares.


	7. Put On The Glory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> m, pacific rim au (huge thanks to karikes for suggesting this; sorry there isn't more of leonard giving grief to spock via alien jokes)  
> content warning: ghost drifting causing one character to feel another getting off, which neither is aware of
> 
> title from browning's "andrew del sarto"

Spock eyes his new partner dubiously. "You are certain he can handle a neural link with a non-human?"

Admiral Pike draws in a long breath. "He's our most compatible pilot- never met a mind he couldn't link with. If any human can link with you, it's McCoy."

Spock takes in McCoy's disheveled state, the alcohol on his breath, and the general air of disquiet about him. He looks like he belongs on a street somewhere, not fighting to save the world- and the universe beyond. He hasn't even looked up since Spock and Pike arrived, merely slouched harder against the jaeger and tossed the admiral a lazy salute.

"If the link does not take..."

"We'll pull the plug the moment there's a disturbance," Pike promises. "In all honesty, though? I don't think you'll have a problem. McCoy's a tough one."

Spock doesn't contradict his superior, merely nods and follows him away.

 

**_xx_ **

 

McCoy meets him in their jaeger, a hulking thing called Cosmic Foreigner, the day of their first attempt at a link.

"Cosmic Foreigner’s a good lady," he says, the words tired but almost amiable. Almost. "Go easy on her at first, though. She takes a little longer to warm up than most."

Spock nods.

"So you're the hotshot Vulcan, huh?"

"Half Vulcan," Spock corrects, getting into place.

"That mean you shake hands?" McCoy asks.

What is it with Americans and touching hands? "It does not."

McCoy nods, accepting this without a fight. "When they initiate the link, try not to scratch at me."

Spock frowns. "Scratch at you? I do not understand." There are many things Spock does not understand about human culture and language. The fact that he learned English in California and McCoy is Georgian may be creating a barrier.

McCoy merely shakes his head. "You'll see soon."

 

**_xx_ **

 

Spock does see. Establishing the neural link with McCoy isn't as difficult as he was led to believe it would be, but maintaining it is a struggle. Spock is trapped in a cold, swirling darkness that makes something primal in him tremble.

 _Calm down,_ comes McCoy's voice. _You're scratchin'._

 _What else am I to do?_ Spock snaps.

_Let go._

Spock can't do that, though, and after five minutes, the link is terminated.

McCoy doesn't linger; the moment he is free of his harness, he marches away.

Spock watches him go with a feeling of failure.

Pike comes over, though, and he seems unfazed. "Considering some of the engineers were sure this would be a total disaster, I'd say today was a success," he tells Spock. "Get some rest. We try again first thing tomorrow."

 

**_xx_ **

 

Spock does not rest. All he can think about is that darkness. It felt so cold, so lonely. It was worse than being the Vulcan half-breed, because even those memories are overlaid with pride- in himself, from his father and mother.

Who is McCoy, and what happened to make his mind so twisted?

 

**_xx_ **

 

The next attempt is little better. They manage to make it seven minutes in the Drift before it falls apart.

McCoy makes another hasty exit.

Pike remains optimistic.

 

**_xx_ **

 

The next day, they go through it all over.

 

**_xx_ **

 

The day after that, the day after another failure, Spock approaches Pike.

"Should we not fight, sir?" he asks. "The Kwoon-"

"Is not necessary," Pike finishes. "We don't need perfect links, Spock. There's no time for them. We just need the damn things to move."

 

**_xx_ **

 

Despite Pike's words, Spock heads to McCoy's room. He comes to a stop just outside the door, however, when he discovers a man already sitting outside it.

Spock recognizes the blond hair, blue eyes, and determined expression immediately.

"I would like to speak to McCoy," Spock says when James Kirk shows no sign of moving.

Kirk's expression, which was already guarded, turns angry. "He's busy. Come back again."

"When?"

Kirk frowns. "Excuse me?"

"When should I return?" Spock explains. "I need to see McCoy. It is rather urgent."

"Yeah, well, Bones doesn't want to see you right now."

Bones? Oh, a nickname. "Why would he not wish to see me? He is my partner. We need to discuss-"

"Get lost," Kirk says, waving a hand. "Just... go away, man. Even if he wanted to see you- which I doubt he does- he's in no position to be talking."

That makes no sense, but Spock can tell when he is unwelcome. As much as he needs to speak with McCoy, he does not wish to get into a fight with one half of the current best pilot team.

 

**_xx_ **

 

The next day, before they get suited up, Spock approaches McCoy.

"We should test ourselves in the Kwoon."

McCoy snorts. "I don't do the Kwoon- Admiral's orders."

"Why?"

"Don't need it." McCoy shrugs. "We can work out the kinks in the Drift. No need to waste time fighting out there in hypotheticals when we can bash them out in reality."

That seems like faulty logic- even a single day of sparring can lead to a better understanding inside the jaeger, but they're called away before he can tell McCoy this.

 

**_xx_ **

 

They last six minutes this time.

McCoy's nose bleeds explosively, and Spock gets knocked unconscious.

By the time he wakes up again, McCoy is nowhere to be seen.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Concerned with McCoy's casual dismissal of the Kwoon, Spock heads to Pike's office, only to stop short at the sound of James Kirk's voice.

"-isn't fair to him, Admiral," he's saying. "It's killing him. What will you do without your star Drifter, huh?"

"Kirk..."

"If he dies, I'll leave."

"James, don't."

"He's my best friend!" Kirk shouts, voice rough. "I won't stand by with my thumb up my ass as you kill him."

He storms out after that, throwing the door open and marching past Spock.

Pike sighs and gestures for Spock to come in.

"Let me guess," he begins as Spock takes a seat opposite him. "You want to meet McCoy in the Kwoon."

"Yes, sir."

Pike sighs again. "You know what? Why not? Tomorrow, before breakfast."

Spock nods and makes a hasty retreat, sensing the admiral's generosity is not to be tested.

 

**_xx_ **

 

McCoy is already in the Kwoon when Spock gets there. He's holding one of the bō staffs in both hands. He cocks his head when he spots Spock.

"I hear you're responsible for this," he says, tone neither approving nor disapproving.

Spock nods. "I felt it would enable us to test our compatibility less destructively.

"If you say so."

Pike arrives next, followed quickly by James Kirk and his partner, Jaylah. Nyota Uhura and Hikaru Sulu come next, then members of Cosmic Foreigner’s team, then other people Spock doesn't recognize.

He ignores them in favor of watching McCoy. His partner is not unattractive- messy, certainly, but there is something appealing in his thick thighs, his expressive face. Humans are always emoting, and from the Drift, Spock has gleaned that McCoy is more expressive than most. This is not a bad thing.

"Shall we?" Spock asks, flicking a look toward Pike. Pike nods, as does McCoy, so Spock crosses to his place on the mat and assumes the first position. He's barely done so before McCoy's staff comes slashing up at him. It's a lazy strike, but a powerful one. Spock grits his teeth and blocks it.

Another strike follows immediately, and before he knows it, Spock is being backed up the mat by a barrage of poorly aimed but weighted strikes. He knows he has to fight back, but there's something about McCoy's strikes that leaves Spock scrambling to keep up. Finally, his back hits the wall, and McCoy moves in close- but not with his staff. He touches Spock's forehead with the tips of two fingers and says, with a lopsided smile, "Point."

The second time goes much the same, only faster.

Spock doesn't mind. McCoy is trying to tell him something. Spock just has to figure out what.

It takes another match and a half, and he discovers it entirely by accident. But he does uncover what McCoy is saying.

A brutal swing is bringing the end of McCoy's staff toward Spock's head, and for a reason he can't fathom, Spock reaches out and catches the staff with his bare hand.

There's an, "Ooh," from the crowd, but Spock ignores the spectators. McCoy is regarding him differently now, that lopsided smile back and in force.

"You gonna show me what you're made of now?" he asks.

"Prepare yourself," Spock says.

And with that, he yanks on McCoy's staff and snaps his leg out, bringing his foot up into McCoy's belly.

He gets a wet, "Oof," for it, but McCoy grabs Spock's foot and uses it to throw him across the mat.

Can you keep up? his face asks.

Spock is. Throwing his own staff aside, he meets McCoy blow for blow, raining kicks and punches all over McCoy's body, even as McCoy does the same to him.

They end up grappling. By virtue of having greater strength, Spock overpowers McCoy, and they both fall to the mat. McCoy lands on his back with Spock on top of him.

Without thinking, Spock knees up McCoy's body and touches McCoy's forehead with his two fingers. "Point," he echoes.

Warmth and wonder flow through him.

McCoy smiles up at him and nods.

Turning to Pike, he shouts, "I like this one."

Pike gives him a flat look, but it doesn't dampen McCoy's newfound joy.

They go another two rounds, both of which go to Spock. McCoy doesn't seem to mind losing. If anything, every time Spock pins him, his smile gets wider.

For the first time since he came to earth, Spock feels at home in his skin.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Spock is eating breakfast on his own when McCoy comes over, carrying his tray.

"Come on," he says.

Spock doesn't ask what's going on. He isn't certain why- perhaps it has something to do with the renewed life in McCoy's eyes?

They walk through the halls to the bay.

McCoy leads Spock to their jaeger and hops up on a box next to one of the machine's giant feet. After a moment, he pats the spot next to him. Spock recognizes what McCoy wants and, despite his misgivings of hopping with a tray of food in his hands, he mimics his partner.

They eat in silence, their elbows brushing.

After they finish, McCoy holds out a flask. Spock considers accepting it in the spirit of camaraderie but ultimately declines. McCoy shrugs and takes a long pull.

"Beautiful, ain't she?" he asks.

"She?"

"Our jaeger."

In a manner of speaking, yes, Cosmic Foreigner is beautiful. But it was made to bring destruction, so Spock fails to see the relevance.

"Before this, I was a doctor," McCoy continues.

Spock feels his eyebrows creep up his forehead. "That is quite a career change."

"My ex left me and took our kid, so I wasn't in a great place when I signed up. Turns out I'm some universal Drifter, though- give me time, and I'll adjust to anybody."

Spock read an article about Drifting once that speculated that the quality that makes for the strongest neural links is empathy. Pilots need not to get sucked into their own memories, but they also need to be able to reach into their copilot's.

Suddenly, something clicks into place. "You are Dr. McCoy? The man who came up with the vaccine against Solarian shingles?"

McCoy nods, his expression rueful. "Once upon a time, yeah."

Spock blinks at him. "You're a genius."

McCoy quirks a brow at him. "And they say Vulcans aren't effusive."

"You saved an entire race," Spock chides.

"I wasn't alone. The whole team was vital."

Spock shakes his head- the ingenuity of thought that has been unanimously credited to McCoy was singular- but lets the subject drop.

 

**_xx_ **

 

The next time they Drift, they last twenty minutes, and the link holds steady.

The whirling dark feels somehow smaller this time.

**_xx_ **

 

Spock is granted access to McCoy's room, and before he knows it, he and McCoy are spending nearly all their time together.

Spock learns that McCoy and Kirk met at the Academy and that they've been attached at the hip ever since.

"Jim isn't as bad as they make him out to be," McCoy says one night. "He's a good man."

"If you say so."

"I do." McCoy gives Spock a strange look. "You're a good man, too, you know."

"Am I?" Spock has never thought of himself in those terms.

McCoy raises his eyebrows. "Spock, you're the first partner I've had who gave a enough of a damn to bug Pike about the Kwoon. You're a tightass, but you're a good man."

Spock refuses to ask what a tightass is.

 

**_xx_ **

 

"Ready?" Leonard asks.

Spock nods. "I am ready."

Together, they make Cosmic Foreigner take her first step.

****

**_xx_ **

 

There is a whirlwind in Spock's mind, but he doesn't try to stop it. He pulls it close and lets it blow around him. It can't hurt him; it's all bluster.

 

**_xx_ **

 

The first kaiju they face is called bloodmuncher.

It dies with a sword in its maw.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Spock is still riding high when they disengage from Cosmic Foreigner. That's the only explanation for why, as they leave, Spock lets his shoulder bump into Leonard's.

 

**_xx_ **

 

A week later, Spock's parents visit.

Spock and Kirk have come to a wordless understanding about splitting Leonard's time, and Spock is enjoying the sound of his doctor grumbling about the latest jaeger flies to sneak into the Shatterdome.

Spock had been safe in his room, but Leonard had been caught in the Kwoon.

"No respect, you know that?" Leonard is saying. "Do I walk into their homes uninvited and gawp at them? They're plenty attractive. I could manage it."

Spock feels a ghost of a smile. Leonard's anger is a funny thing. He's always prickling with it, but when it comes to things that ought to rouse his anger, he is suddenly placid- being used as the PPDC's workhorse, for one.

"I am certain you could gape very convincingly, Leonard."

"That would sound meaner if you weren't smiling at me," Leonard replies easily.

Before Spock can formulate a suitably scathing reply, the door opens and Jim pokes his head inside.

"Hey, Spock," he says, "your parents are here."

Spock nods and gets to his feet, ignoring Leonard's, "You have parents?"

He isn't certain why Leonard decides to accompany him, but he is glad for it. Spock has not seen his father since breaking his engagement to T'Pring and declining the invitation to attend the Vulcan Academy. He knows Sarek will not have forgiven him. Spock may be his own being, but he still feels the sting of his father's disappointment. Having Leonard stand at his side, unflinching and openly curious, may keep Spock from saying anything ungrateful.

His parents are waiting in Pike's office. His mother comes over to him immediately, hands raised. Spock inclines his head and raises his own, their fingers touching each other's faces.

He is immediately immersed in a sense of her love for him. Even for a human, his mother has always been free with her love, almost embarrassingly so. In this moment, with his father's disapproval hanging in the air, Spock finds himself grateful for it.

They part slowly, his mother's eyes misting up as she steps back.

"Spock," Sarek says.

"Father," Spock replies.

They do not mind meld. They do not touch at all.

Behind him, Spock hears Leonard shift his weight.

"This is Leonard McCoy," he hears himself say. "He is my copilot."

Leonard obligingly steps forward. "I'd do your hand thing, but my clumsy fingers can't seem to manage it," he says. His tone is neither angry nor amused. He is simply stating a fact.

Spock's mother nods, a strange look passing over her features. "I'm Amanda," she says, extending her hand, which Leonard takes in his own. "My husband is Sarek."

"As in the ambassador?" Leonard asks, his eyebrow quirking at Spock.

Spock nods, taken aback that Leonard would know that.

"It's an honor to meet you, then. I can't say I'm too surprised, though. I always knew this guy had to come from somewhere with a damn lot of artifice."

"Leonard," Spock warns, but Leonard isn't paying him any mind.

"As I heard it, Ambassador, you weren't thrilled with your son opting to join the PPDC. But who would be? We humans are just canon fodder for your war, after all."

"Leonard."

Leonard shrugs. "As a father, I can sympathize with the desire to keep your child far from the front lines. But as a human?" He gives Sarek a crooked smile. "You're happy to let us die on our own to stop the greatest intergalactic threat we've ever seen. Judge your son all you like, but I'd be careful. Your boy has more teeth than any ten Vulcans. I'm honored to serve with him."

That said, he nods to Spock's mother and walks out.

Spock watches him go with a tightness in his chest. When he turns back to his parents, both are frowning at him.

"He's very attached to you, isn't he?" his mother asks.

"He is my copilot," Spock says. "We are attached to each other. It is the nature of the Drift."

Sarek shakes his head. "You could have become anything. Your mind is wasted here."

Spock bites his tongue against the voice in his mind that shouts, My mind is what makes me useful here.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Leonard is eating with Jim in the mess when Spock finds him. Spock and Jim exchange friendly nods, and Leonard frowns.

"When did you two become friends? No wait. Don't tell me. I don't want to know."

Spock slides onto the bench beside him. "It was unwise to challenge my father as you did." He pauses. "Yet I find myself glad you did."

"Any time," Leonard grunts.

Jim gives Spock a bright smile. "Bones here loves yelling at aliens."

"Shut up, Jim."

"It's true!"

Leonard kicks Jim under the table, and Jim grunts.

"Spock, come on. You've been in his head. Tell Bones he hates space and everything in it."

"I'm going to shove this spoon down your throat if you don't shut it," Leonard growls.

Spock watches them, taken aback to realize he's become someone who has friends. They're human and rowdy and fragile, and they have no respect for boundaries, but they're his. Spock would give his life to protect them without a moment of regret.

 

**_xx_ **

 

The next time they fight a kaiju, they almost lose. Only Uhura and Sulu's timely arrival with a plasma blast saves them.

They all return to the bay and climb out of their harnesses. Leonard is in good spirits, rough housing with Jim and Sulu while Uhura rolls her eyes.

Spock watches them with a pang in his chest. He has no desire to join them, but he can't deny that since coming to earth, he has wished he were more like a human.

He's thinking about this when Leonard comes jogging over. He's out of breath and grinning wildly. "Everybody's going out for a bite. You comin'?"

Spock hesitates.

"Come on," Leonard urges. "Live a little, pointy."

"I will join you, but only because I would like to keep an eye on you."

"Good enough." Leonard turns back to the humans and shouts, "I got him!"

A cheer goes up in reply, and Spock is struck once more by how different humans are from Vulcans. Perhaps it's because they are so short-lived, he reasons. The world must be so much more intense when it must be experienced in half the time.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Going out was a mistake. His fellow pilots chose a packed bar with loud music and flashing lights. Spock is overwhelmed from the moment he steps inside, and the feeling only gets worse the longer he stays.

Keeping the dancers and jaeger flies- that must be who they are, the way they flock to people wearing the uniform- from touching him requires Spock's full attention, which he immediately resents.

It takes less than half an hour for him to decide he needs to go.

He looks around for Leonard and finds him in a corner talking with a pretty young woman- and she is young. She laughs at something he says, and Spock's chest goes tight.

He turns and leaves without a word.

 

**_xx_ **

 

The next morning, everyone is hungover at breakfast. Everyone, that is, but Spock and Leonard.

"Bones," Jim whines. "Bones, I'm dying."

"Take some ibuprofen and drink a glass of water," Leonard tells him. "Then go take a nap."

"But, Bones. I'm dying."

"But, Jim, you're not. If you want sympathy, go find Jaylah and Sulu. They were drinking something that glowed, so I'm guessing they're not feeling too hot either."

Spock looks around, and sure enough, both Jaylah and Sulu are hunched over their breakfasts, both wearing sunglasses despite the low lights.

Jim huffs but slinks off to join them.

Leonard turns his attention to Spock. "You left early last night."

"I do not believe it was the correct 'scene' for me," Spock says, feeling slightly more diplomatic than he was last night.

Leonard frowns. "You should have told me. We could have gone somewhere quieter."

"You were otherwise engaged."

"Otherwise engaged- Oh, you mean Lucy." Leonard's expression clears, and Spock feels suddenly ill. "Spock, Lu is a friend I met at my wife's birthing classes. She would have loved you."

"It did not look like I should interrupt." More like if he had interrupted, he would not have been welcomed.

To his surprise, Leonard scratches at his jaw, looking thoughtful. "Lu's always had a bit of a crush on me," he says slowly. "Not that I return it, mind you. But I guess we were standing pretty close to hear each other. But it's not like that. You're my copilot, Spock. That comes first."

Somehow, the words don't come with the same reassurance they once might have.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Spock and Leonard continue to train in the Kwoon. It's easily one of Spock's favorite activities. Leonard is a talented fighter, and the give and take between them is easy. By virtue of being Vulcan, Spock tends to win more than he loses, but Leonard is crafty and willing to fight dirty. It makes for interesting matches, and Spock isn't surprised that they draw crowds.

 

**_xx_ **

 

The third time they fight a kaiju, it's a long and arduous battle. Every jaeger has to take on its own monster, and the one Cosmic Foreigner gets has thick armor that prevents them from simply slashing it apart.

In the end, they wind up finding a weak spot its armpit. Leonard uses his arm to hold the creature's elbow up while Spock swings the blade home.

Mothercruncher goes down with a scream, and this time, it stays down.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Everyone returns worn out. There will be no partying tonight. They all slink back to their rooms in silence, the weight of what could have happened- what did happen- heavy on them.

Spock returns to his room and lies down, but the odd feeling that has hounded him since he disengaged has followed him.

He feels heavier than he is, his body itching with something Spock can neither name nor understand.

He considers meditation but finds the itchy feeling is akin to restlessness. He will find no respite for his mind when his body is acting out.

Instead of meditating, he simply sits down with his legs folded and lets his mind wander.

The first place it goes, as it always does these days, is to Leonard. Spock's copilot is a strange man. He can be deeply abrasive as easily as he can be giving. He loves his daughter- Spock has seen her in the Drift and felt in Leonard a new kind of love, one so selfless it sent a man to the front lines of an endless war. Yet there is a coldness to Leonard, a weariness that tugs at him.

A true mind meld would help Spock to understand Leonard, but he is reluctant to ask. Leonard can be intensely private, and Spock has seen more than most in the Drift.

He's considering the differences between the neural link and a Vulcan mind meld when he feels something odd. It's as if he'd taken his pants off, but he remains fully clothed.

He shakes his head. He must be imagining things.

But it's only a minute later that he feels suddenly hot, phantom splashes of water around his ankles. Then he feels his knees creak and a sensation like slipping into a bath. He still feels hot, but not unbearably so.

The feeling is strange enough, but then it gets stranger still when he feels hands on his body, the drag of fingers up his thighs.

They slip around his cock, and Spock swallows hard. He can feel himself getting hard but has no idea why.

He should tell someone, but who? And how does he explain it?

Even as he thinks it, the phantom touch strokes him again, firmer this time. It isn't a bad sensation- just the opposite. Perhaps he should just let it run its course?

The touch continues, twisting and stroking and rubbing, and Spock feels his hips jerk in time with it.

It goes on and on, until Spock feels something like a punch to the gut but good, and he spills in his pants.

The touches disappear after that, but the feeling of heat and, now, of floating comfortably persist.

Spock wobbles to his bathroom to clean up, which he does quickly, then returns to his room and crawls into bed.

He feels drowsy already, and it's only a matter of slowing his breathing before he falls into a deep, dreamless sleep.

 

**_xx_ **

 

He seeks out Leonard the next morning and explains what happened- with a little editing. Leonard's first reaction is a blush, followed rapidly by an angry, "Nobody told you about ghostin'?"

Spock shakes his head, and Leonard cusses.

"All right, Mr. No Feelings. We're seein' Pike."

 

**_xx_ **

 

Pike blinks in surprise when Leonard throws the door to his office open and drags Spock in after him.

"McCoy, what the hell are you-"

"Nobody told him about ghostin'!"

Pike's mouth slams shut. He looks between them for a moment. "I don't understand how he couldn't-"

"Because it ain't official material!" Leonard snaps. "Look at this guy! Does he look like he's got his ear to the ground, lookin' for legends?"

Pike sighs. "No, he doesn't. Sit down, Spock. You, too, McCoy."

Spock does as he bid. As does Leonard.

"Ghosting refers to a phenomenon known as the Ghost Drift. Some pilots have been known to experience the Drift even without a neural link. From McCoy's expression, I gather that's what happened yesterday."

"So I did not imagine it," Spock says slowly.

"You did not."

"Therefore, what I felt was real. And was, indeed, happening to Leonard-" He comes to an abrupt stop, the pieces falling into place.

Leonard is blushing again, and he turns to Pike. "Next time you bring up a cadet, make sure they know everything, would you?"

Pike nods, his lips pressed together tightly.

 

**_xx_ **

 

After they leave Pike's office, Spock turns to Leonard.

"I apologize," he says haltingly. "Had I known what was happening, I would have acted differently."

Leonard scowls at him. "Dammit, man. It ain't your fault. If anybody is sorry, it's me. I ought to have made sure you knew about ghostin' myself. It usually doesn't happen this fast, but you're not the usual kind of pilot." His mouth quirks into a half-smile. "Jim and Uhura are sparring in the Kwoon today. Let's go see if we can squeeze in and watch her drop his ass."

 

**_xx_ **

 

Uhura does drop Jim. Repeatedly.

Spock doesn't find the sparring as stimulating as a match between copilots, however. There is no give and take, no matching each other and pushing for more.

Spock would much rather be sparring with Leonard, even if it is interesting to see how well-versed Uhura is in different styles.

 

**_xx_ **

 

They fight and kill another kaiju. And another. And another. They keep coming, and the jaegers keep killing them. It borders on inane.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Spock gets comfortable with being in Leonard's head- and having Leonard in his own. He likes the closeness and, once he's figured out what it is, even ghosting becomes interesting. He tells Leonard whenever he feels the strange, extra body feelings, and there has been no repetition of that first time.

Spock almost wishes there would be.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Cosmic Foreigner gets ripped apart.

Spock almost dies.

Leonard does die. Twice. But they get his heart to keep beating, and even though he falls into a coma, he's stable.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Spock doesn't leave Leonard's side until after he wakes up.

The first word out of Leonard's mouth is, "Spock?"

The second is, "Ow."

The third and fourth don't bear repeating.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Jim, who got barred from the hospital for fighting with a doctor, comes crashing into the room an hour after the staff stops fussing over Leonard.

"Bones!" he shouts. "I thought you were dead."

"Tough luck," Leonard says, his throat still dry.

The two hug, and Jim pats Leonard's back hard enough to hurt, even as Leonard grabs the waistband of Jim's jeans and yanks them up. They're laughing and sharing a moment, so Spock slips away quietly. He decides to get something to drink- there is a coffee machine nearby, and he can give Leonard and Jim time to cool down while he pours some for himself.

He's almost at the door when he hears Jim ask, "So he doesn't know?"

Leonard coughs, the sound grating. "Course not," he rasps. He must drink, because when he speaks again, his voice is closer to normal. "Spock doesn't need my shit."

"True," Jim agrees. "But maybe he might like to try. He didn't leave your side, you know. From the moment they found you, he insisted on being with you. I thought he might scrub up and join the surgery, to be honest."

"Copilots are close," Leonard says quickly.

Jim snorts. "I know you're wounded from your ex, but, Bones, if you think that bastard doesn't have the hots for you, your head is even farther up your ass than mine is."

"Is that why I'm so constipated?" Leonard asks, going for light and not quite managing, and Jim groans.

"Shut up. You're disgusting."

Spock backs away quickly. He shouldn't have heard that, and he knows it.

But he did hear it. There's only one way to interpret Jim's words, but the thought of Leonard... caring for him makes Spock's head spin.

 

**_xx_ **

 

The more Spock thinks about it, the more logical the hypothesis that Leonard has feelings for him becomes. Spock returns the feelings- has for a long time. He simply assumed Leonard did not.

The question now is how does he get Leonard to admit he does?

 

**_xx_ **

 

Leonard has to stay in the hospital for another week. Spock decides the best course of action is to take advantage of his immobility.

"Leonard," he says during a commercial break in the show they've been watching.

Leonard grunts.

"Would you be amenable to dating me?"

Leonard, who had just taken a sip of water, chokes. "What?" he rasps.

"I overheard your conversation with Jim the other day. I am aware of your feelings for me, and I return them. It is logical, the , for me to engage in the human tradition of 'asking you out'."

Leonard blinks at him. "Goddamn Vulcan ears," he says, his own ears turning red.

"That is neither a yes nor a no."

"Lord Almighty, it's a yes, all right? Now stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, but I don't like it."

It occurs to Spock that Leonard is merely being crotchety because he feels uncomfortable. "Very well," he says, turning away from Leonard and back to the TV.

It's for the best. If Leonard were to see Spock smiling as widely as he is, he might have a heart attack.


	8. Put On The Glory, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t, established relationship, more from the pacific rim au, for karikes

The Shatterdome is quiet. It's the middle of the night, there are no kaiju due, and everyone is sleeping.

Everyone except Leonard and Spock.

"I really don't think I'm meant for this," Leonard says, the fifth vague suggestion that they stop in as many minutes.

"You were doing fine before you began complaining," Spock tells him. "Meditation is not meant to be easy at first, Leonard."

"Don't talk to me like I'm a child."

"Do not act like one and I will not."

Leonard grumbles something under his breath but gamely closes his eyes yet again.

Spock will not admit it, but he finds Leonard's struggles with meditation endearing. His irascible partner truly does not seem like the type of man who would be drawn by the idea of meditation; indeed, before he and Spock got together, Leonard was more given to running around with Jim than sitting quietly.

He is trying, though. Spock knows this.

It makes him smile as he leans forward and presses a soft kiss to the corner of Leonard's mouth.

Leonard's lips curve into a smile of his own. It's soft and happy, a type of smile that sits strangely on Leonard's face but is growing more comfortable. Spock intends to stay close so he can see Leonard smile like that every day.

 

_**xx** _

 

Leonard likes to hold hands. Spock had thought himself beyond getting flustered at such a juvenile action for a human, but the first time Leonard took his hand, Spock nearly jumped out of his skin.

Now, he looks down at their joined hands and feels warmth spread through his body. Leonard's hands are wide and soft; he takes fastidious care of them, a care that mirrors the way he treats Spock.

For someone so angry, so jaded, Leonard is gentle with Spock. They pick at each other, but there's always an underlying feeling of support, a sense that Leonard knows Spock's boundaries and won't cross them.

Sometimes Leonard lets his hand unfurl and presses the tips of his fingers to Spock's in a Vulcan kiss.

He never acknowledges it outright, but Spock can see the way Leonard's lips quirk, the way the lines around his eyes relax.

It's heady, knowing he has that effect on someone like Leonard.

 

_**xx** _

 

Date night becomes a ritual as integral as training in the Kwoon. Leonard started it, insisting that they needed some time to decompress away from the Shatterdome, but it's Spock who insists they maintain it. He and Leonard get dressed up, take one of the PPDC's Jeeps, and drive to what's become their restaurant. It's a little place, tucked out of the way, where the staff has proven friendly and discreet.

Maria seats them with a smile.

Spock nods at her as he slides into the booth. Leonard returns the smile with one of his wide, public smiles. He's good at playing up the Southern charm when he wants to, and Maria blushes like she always does before wishing them a good meal and returning to her station.

"You should not smile at her like that," Spock says, frowning. "You might give her ideas."

Leonard quirks an eyebrow. "Jealous, Mr. Spock?"

"You know that is not what I mean."

Sighing, Leonard relents and focuses on the menu. It's a pointless action- he always gets the same thing, as does Spock. The kitchen is probably already firing their orders. But Spock knows not to point this out. Leonard likes to have his rituals without being told that's what they are.

It's illogical, but then, so is Leonard.

More to the point, however, Spock suspects the twitchiness springs from Leonard's failed marriage. Spock tries not to pry, or to allow Leonard to see his anger at Jocelyn for hurting the best man Spock knows, and he thinks he's done well so far.

He's so caught up in his thoughts, he doesn't notice Leonard's expression has turned sly until there's pressure against the inside of Spock's leg.

Experience has taught Spock to nip this habit in the bud.

"Leonard," he warns.

Leonard merely adopts an innocent expression, even as he slowly rubs his foot up Spock's leg.

The arrival of their server, a friendly young man named Paul, cuts off further protest, and Leonard flashes Spock a grin before he schools his features into something more bland.

"Evenin', Paul," he says amiably.

Paul gives them both a genuine smile, one that exposes a number of missing teeth. "The usual tonight, gentlemen?"

Spock nods, as does Leonard, and a moment later, Leonard and Paul have dived straight into Paul's current academic obsession: medicine.

Letting their words flow over him, Spock concentrates instead on Leonard's face. He's healed well from the kaiju attack that nearly killed him. There are only a few light scars on his face from the shrapnel; Spock knows them well, having mapped them all with his fingers and his tongue. There are other, deeper scars on Leonard's torso, coupled with burns from the drivesuit that curve across his ribs. These, too, are well known to Spock.

He has a few of his own now. They're less obvious than Leonard's, but each has been traced and blessed by Leonard's hands and mouth.

Shifting in his seat, Spock can't help but think back to the last time that happened. They were in the shower, just getting clean, when Leonard has started to trace the burns across Spock's chest. His touch had been light, almost ticklish. One thing had led to another, and Spock can still see Leonard's heavy-lidded gaze as he sank to his knees.

Shaking his head- now is not the time to be remembering that- Spock focuses on the conversation.

"-all about the electrons," Leonard is saying. "You'll get the hang of it. Don't worry."

Paul sighs and gives Leonard his thanks, then turns and heads to the kitchen.

"Think good thoughts?" Leonard asks the moment Paul is out of earshot. He's smiling smugly- Spock's face must have given him away.

"You should not ask questions when you already know the answers," Spock says stiffly.

"Aw, but, Spock. The fun isn't in the knowing- it's in the finding out."

Leonard does this sometimes, shows flashes of a more playful man. Spock can't seem to figure out how to make them last longer than they do, so he makes certain to enjoy them while they're here.

He doesn't contradict Leonard. He's too concerned with enjoying this latest flash of liveliness.

Someday, he thinks, Leonard will smile more than he doesn't. After all he's lost- after all he's done- he deserves that much.

Their food arrives before Leonard's good mood dissipates, and Spock quickly finds himself struggling to eat his soup with Leonard's foot sliding indecently high.

"Leonard."

"Yes, darlin'?"

"We are in public."

Leonard beams at him around a bite of salad. "I know."

_"Leonard."_

"You want me to stop?"

Spock hesitates, and Leonard beams at him.

They don't talk for the rest of the meal. The only sounds come from the other customers, none of whom seems at all interested in the pilots in the corner.

They pay and leave with only a few quiet words to Paul and waves for Maria.

On the way back to the Shatterdome, Leonard keeps one hand on the wheel but holds the other out. Spock takes it without hesitation, pressing their fingertips together in a firm kiss. He gets a sense of wonder from Leonard, a curious feeling of happiness and surprise- along with a heavy pulse of interest. It still makes Spock's face heat when he catches Leonard's thought taking a turn toward arousal, and he can't help but press their fingers together a touch harder.

Leonard doesn't remark on it, but he smiles the entire journey back to the Shatterdome, his hand firmly held beneath Spock's.


	9. Title Fights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> e, established relationship, canon 'verse

Spock doesn't fight him. That's important. That's good. That's crucial. That's _something_.

Leonard isn't sure what the right word is. All he cares about is the fact that when he backs Spock up against the door to Spock's quarters, Spock lets it happen. He lets Leonard get up in his space, the two of them pressing together from chest to knee.

They stand there for a moment, just staring at each other, Leonard's hands fisted in Spock's uniform shirt.

"You almost died," he rasps. "God damn it, Spock. You should have died out there."

Spock's voice is beautiful and infuriating. "Yet I did not."

"I almost lost you."

"Again, Leonard, I must point out that you did not lose me."of

Leonard didn't lose him, true, but there's a familiar itch under his skin. He gets it every time Spock goes off and nearly dies- or Leonard goes off and nearly dies, or they both go and barely dodge death's grasp. Leonard is a doctor; he knows why he has the itch and what it symbolizes. He knows he needs reassurance that Spock is alive and well.

He also knows that this latest time was too close. Even for the crew of the Enterprise, this was too damn close.

"I care about you, you mechanical bastard. You're not supposed to hurt me."

Spock raises a hand and tilts Leonard's chin up. "You are trembling."

"Yeah, well, you scared me, asshole."

"I am sorry, Leonard. It was not my intention."

Leonard shrugs one shoulder. The itch is still there, demanding he scratch it, so he slips a hand around Spock's back, lifting his shirt and sliding under his undershirt. He lets it rest there, just touching Spock, while the other hand does the same against Spock's front, his palm coming to rest against Spock's heart.

"You are feeling sentimental," Spock rumbles.

"Something like that," Leonard agrees, leaning into Spock. He slides the hand on Spock's back lower, his hand sliding under Spock's waistband and moving farther until he has a solid handful of Spock's ass.

Spock's breath hitches.

Pleased, Leonard hums to himself.

"Leonard-" Spock begins.

"No," Leonard says firmly. "No more talking. If you won't listen to my words, at least listen to this."

Tilting his head, Leonard leans up for a kiss. Spock meets him halfway like he always does. The kiss is hard, demanding, and Spock makes a soft noise in the back of his throat.

Leonard doesn't pull away until his lungs are burning.

Spock's eyes are heavy lidded, his breath hitching softly. "This is a human reaction to an event that could have been traumatic," he says evenly. "You are reassuring yourself of our continued existence."

"And if I am?"

Spock puts his hands on Leonard's face. "Then I am glad to oblige you."

They kiss again, and Leonard presses as close as he can. He tugs Spock against him with the hand on his ass; Spock groans and pushes his hips into Leonard's. Smiling into the kiss, Leonard shuffles a little, lining himself up with Spock so his thigh is between Spock's legs. He can feel the hard line of Spock's erection already.

Breaking the kiss, he asks, "Ready to go already, Commander?"

Spock sighs and hooks a leg over Leonard's hip. "Must you be disagreeable at every moment?"

"I must."

"Then perhaps I ought to find a better use for your mouth." A second later, two of his fingers press against Leonard's lower lip. He doesn't hesitate to open his mouth slide his tongue over them.

Spock lets out a whine and thrusts against Leonard's hip.

"You like that?" Leonard asks around Spock's fingers. He gets a glassy-eyed nod in reply.

Part of him feels like they should move this to the bed like grown men, but another, larger, part likes having Spock pinned against the wall. He likes the desperate grind of their hips, the dribble of spit down his chin when Spock adds a third finger- inevitably reminding Leonard of the last time Spock fucked him. It was slow and careful and sweet, Spock stretching him open with long, careful fingers as he pressed kisses to Leonard's neck.

Just remembering it makes Leonard's heart beat faster.

"You are remembering our last congress," Spock pants, even as he rolls his hips. "You find the memory arousing."

"You don't?"

Spock hesitates, pulling his back enough to rest the tips on Leonard's lip. "I always find you arousing."

Leonard feels himself flush. "Keep talkin' like that an' I'm liable to lose it."

Spock hums an acknowledgement before slipping his fingers back into Leonard's mouth. "I think I would like to record us making love," he says, the only hint that he's feeling anything a tightness in his voice. "This is a custom on earth, is it not?" Leonard nods. "It is a custom I wish to engage in with you." His voice drops. "You are very good at taking my cock, Leonard. I enjoy the sound you make when I am fully seated inside you, as well as the noises you make when you climax. I wish to keep them with me."

He says it like he wants a lock of hair, like carrying around a sound byte of Leonard coming is a sweet, normal thing to do. Leonard ought to disagree. He ought to tell Spock to stop being crude, but there's something in Spock's expression that makes Leonard bite his tongue. It's dark and possessive, and it makes Leonard's cock twitch.

He isn't ready for Spock to slide his free hand down the back of Leonard's pants. He isn't thinking about anything to keep from coming when Spock presses one fingertip against his hole. He's caught up in the vision of Spock jerking off desperately to the sound of Leonard's voice.

So it isn't his fault that he comes in his pants. It isn't. It's been ages since he and Spock had that last fuck, and Leonard has always been the type to get pent up easily.

Spock blinks at him as Leonard comes down. He's shaking, his fingers digging into Spock's skin hard enough to bruise.

"I believe," Spock says slowly, "that I would very much like to have sex with you now."

Leonard musters a weak smile as he takes a step back on shaking legs. "Come and get me."

Spock gets his arms around him easily. "Always," he says, and there's a promise in his voice that Leonard hasn't heard before. It makes his heart ache in a different way, but he puts it out of his mind as he falls back on the bed. He and Spock have other business to get to first.


	10. This Is Attrition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t, immortals au, post break up
> 
> pls yell at jessicamiriamdrew and karikes for this fic's existence, thank u

"He's at it again!" Bones growls. He holds his phone out at Jim, hands shaking with rage. "That pointy eared bastard was in another portrait!"

Jim sighs at him but takes the phone. He examines the photo before nodding to himself and handing the phone back. "That's Spock all right."

Leonard gives him a withering look. "No shit. Who else is green, has pointy ears, and has a bowl cut? It's 2007, for cryin' out loud. The least he could do is grow out that monstrosity."

"You know I can't do anything. Sitting for portraits isn't against the rules..."

"Well it should be."

Jim smiles weakly, and Leonard's hackles rise in expectation.

"You should try talking to him again. You might find that things aren’t as bleak as you think."

"Yeah, and maybe I'll sprout a tail to match his ears."

Jim shakes his head, and Leonard feels a brief pang of remorse. He knows it's rough on Jim to be friends with Leonard and Spock. If Leonard could just figure out how to put up with the damn man... He buries the thought quickly under irritation. He can't put up with Spock. He tried once, and where did that get him?

Nowhere good.

 

**_xx_ **

 

They don't talk about the time when Spock and Leonard came to a truce. Leonard doesn't like being reminded of his folly, and Jim doesn't like getting yelled at.

It's a perfect combination.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Jim refuses to let Leonard see the latest instance of Spock's photographic fuckery. He won't say who took it or let Leonard see his phone, where Leonard knows Jim was just looking at the photo.

What Jim forgets is that his phone syncs with his computer, and all it takes is Leonard waiting for Jim to dash out of their apartment to freedom, then booting up Jim's beaten up Mac. They've long since shared all their passwords; knowing someone for four hundred years will do that.

It barely takes five minutes for Leonard to find the site.

The moment it loads, he sees why Jim didn't want him to see it. Spock is lounging on his side, eyes half-shut, dressed only in a low-slung white sheet.

Memories race to the surface. Leonard easily remembers the warmth of Spock's body, how lean he was, the scratch of his wiry hair. The heat of his breath on Leonard's skin. The glint in his eyes when he was feeling playful.

Jim finds Leonard sitting in front of the computer, his head in his hands.

"They say time heals all wounds," Jim says, laying a hand on Leonard's shoulder.

Leonard snorts. "We both know that’s horseshit."

Jim doesn't fight him, just squeezes his shoulder and lets Leonard be angry. He’s good like that.

 

**_xx_ **

 

If Leonard had scrolled down, he would have found a snippet of an interview with the model sharing what he was thinking about during the shoot.

_"There was a man, once, one whom I loved dearly. I lost him because I did not know how to keep him. I have lost many things in my life, but I feel his absence most keenly._

_"What would I give to have him back? I cannot think of anything I would not give- but that is not how love works. He is lost to me now; I have no hope of reconciliation. All I have are my memories to keep me warm. They will have to do."_

But Leonard didn't scroll down, so he never sees that.

 

**_xx_ **

 

The next portrait isn't a photograph. It's a bit of tourist bait, a caricature done in marker on a plate. Leonard recognizes Spock immediately. He sees the strong nose and angled eyebrows, takes in the haughty set of his chin, and he knows.

He doesn't know who thought sending it to him would be a good idea- Uhura, probably, considering how close she and Spock are, and her love of tourist activities- but it takes everything in him not to break the plate the moment he recognizes Spock. He tucks it back into the packing peanuts instead and puts the box on the floor of his closet where he won't have to see it.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Leonard has never been great at moving on. It took him a century to recover from his divorce. It's only been a few decades since Spock ended what they had, so Leonard figures he's right on schedule.

He isn't, of course, and deep down, he knows he isn't.

That's probably why he crushes the plate in his hands one afternoon out of the blue. Jim finds him cleaning up the blood in the bathroom.

"Bones," he says softly as he dries Leonard's hands. "Why don't you just talk to him?"

"There's nothing to say," Leonard snaps. "He made himself very clear."

"He's Spock, man. You don't think maybe the emotions got to him?"

Maybe they did. Leonard shrugs. "Does it matter? Even if that were the case, he didn't come to me for comfort or for help. He shut me out, and then he kicked me out. I'm not fool enough to keep sticking my hand out for slaps."

Jim gives him a look that says Leonard is exactly fool enough to do that, but he wisely keeps his comments to himself.

 

**_xx_ **

 

Spock pops up in a massive fashion magazine next. Then in a popular photographer's series of "amateur" model photographs. Then he gets painted by a digital artist. Then another digital artist. It makes Leonard long for the glory days multi-day painting sessions.

"That was the best," he tells Jim one afternoon. "Remember those days? Sitting still for hours on end? You had to mean it to be made into art. It required commitment. Now look at him." He waves angrily at the laptop screen. "He's damn near everywhere now, and it means shit."

"You're drunk."

"Yep."

"It's two in the afternoon."

"Not like my liver's goin' anywhere," Leonard points out. "Little bastard's as bad as Spock."

Jim blinks. "That's the first time you've said his name since-"

"Do you want to wear this beer?"

"Not really."

"Then don't tell me bad things. Tell me good things."

"Well, Scotty found Keenser again."

Leonard snorts, not surprised in the least. "Those two always find each other."

Jim nods and slides onto the unoccupied cushion next to Leonard. "But did you know Keenser tracked him down from a beer ad?"

It isn't subtle. Not in the least. But then, Leonard's drunk at two in the afternoon, so maybe he passed subtle a while ago.

"How'd the little fucker do it, then? I know you're dyin' to tell me."

 

**_xx_ **

 

Everything is going fine. Leonard and Jim are living in a little town in New Jersey, where Jim can commute to New York City to do whatever it is he does and where Leonard can work as a primary physician. He itches to do something more, but he can't risk being discovered. Someone ought to be discrete. Besides, there's good work to be done here. Someone has to reassure the first time moms and catch the cancers.

He's thinking about his last patient- a young woman with an adorable but colicky baby- when he gets home.

Spock is sitting at the kitchen table.

His hair is long- longer than it was in the most recent photo shoot he did- and left to lie free over his shoulders.

Leonard swallows hard. "Where's Jim?"

"I'm right here," Jim says from the stairs to Leonard's left. He's bent over, fingers tangled in his shoelaces.

Leonard hadn't even seen him. His gaze still goes straight for Spock, everything else fading into nothing.

"What's going on?" he asks, fists clenching.

"I invited Spock over," Jim says easily. "It's time you two sorted this out." And that's it. That's all he says before he straightens up and walks out.

Leonard can feel Spock's eyes on him.

"I think we've said enough."

Spock quirks an eyebrow. "I disagree."

"Too bad."

"Leonard, I-" Spock's lips press into a thin line. "I made an error."

"Good of you to notice."

"Did Jim tell you about our deal?" Spock asks, ignoring him.

Leonard frowns. "No, he didn't." Spock's expression turns decidedly shifty. Leonard doesn't like it. "Spock... what was the deal?"

"We traded," Spock says slowly.

"Traded what?"

"Portraits." Spock blinks slowly. "I would do one public one for every one he sent of you."

Leonard's heart skips. "Excuse me?"

Spock doesn't look away. "I received pictures of you for allowing ones be taken of myself."

"That's... creepy," Leonard says. "That's damn creepy, Spock."

Spock winces. "I am aware. I missed you. I still do."

"Yeah, well, whose fault is that?"

Spock gets to his feet. "It is mine. It was always mine." He takes a step closer. "You are unlike anyone else. I do not know how to react to you. I do not know how to make you happy." He takes another step. "But I wish to learn."

Leonard bites his cheek. "It never occurred to you that it might be too late for that?"

"It did. I know a logical man would turn me down. Yet you are not logical- if there is any hope for me, it lies in this."

Leonard wants to hold the line. He wants to tell Spock to go jack it with a cactus. He wants to touch Spock's face. He wants to be left alone. He wants, he wants, he wants.

"Come here."

Spock does. He closes the space between them and doesn't stop until he's a hair's breadth away. His tongue peeks out, wetting his lips.

Leonard isn't the only one who's nervous.

"You can't shut me out like that," he says, voice rough.

"I will not."

"You sure? Think about it for a bit-"

"I already have," Spock says, an edge creeping into his voice. "I have thought about it for more than a thousand days and a thousand nights. I have done little but think. It is time I acted."

"And what kind of action were you planning to take?"

"I intend to kiss you- if you will allow it."

Leonard does.

 

**_xx_ **

 

A year later, a sappy album of photos taken of couples is published. In the middle, sandwiched between two grinning moms and two exasperated dads with six kids, is a photograph of two unsmiling men with their arms placed awkwardly around each other.

Jim howls for an hour when he sees it and hangs a copy in his living room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen,, i know this is creepy, but i think we can all agree that, given the vokaya incident, spock is a truly accidentally creepy dude


	11. My Coming Into Being

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t, historical (inspired by _black sails_ ), established relationship
> 
> title from muriel rukeyser

Leonard is tired. He is tired of waging war. He is tired of violating his oath and taking life where he should be preserving it. He is tired of the endless, merciless sea.

He is tired of being Captain Bones.

Spock brushes Leonard's hair from his face. "You are unhappy," he says, as he has every time Leonard has returned to him.

Leonard doesn't speak. He simply takes Spock's hand in his and brings it to his lips. He kisses Spock's knuckles and feels a wave of regret. Back in London, Spock's hands had been a wonder. They were so soft, so unused to physical toil.

Back in London, Spock had been an aristocrat's son.

Here in Nassau, Spock is a fugitive. He keeps his head bowed and his hands covered in dirt. There are new calluses on his body to be discovered every time Leonard returns.

"War with England is unwinnable, Leonard. You cannot defeat her."

"And yet I will." Leonard smiles sadly. "She must bleed for what she's done, the pain she's brought about. She must, or she will continue to inflict it."

Spock shifts on his side. "It is not your job to seek recompense for England's failings. You are just a man, Leonard. You can die like any other."

"Doesn't feel that way," Leonard admits softly. "Having you here... I'll always come back to you."

"Illogical."

"But true."

Spock huffs, and Leonard rolls onto his side to face him.

"What they did to you- What they did to _us_... I cannot let that go unanswered. You know that."

"I do." Spock lays a hand on Leonard's bare waist. "Yet I also know I would rather have a long and quiet lifetime with you here, in our bed, than mere moments." His expression turns distant. "I used to love the sea. Now I hate it. It sees you more than I do; you belong to it more than you belong to me."

Leonard shakes his head. "I hate the sea. If I never saw her again, I would be a happy man. But I can't stop now. We're so close..."

Spock's jaw works. "How long before you leave again?"

"One week," Leonard tells him. He's almost happy- it's longer than they've gotten in more than a year.

"Then let us not waste another second," Spock says, and Leonard knows exactly what he's thinking. If Leonard could just give up on the war, if he could just let England be, if he could love Spock enough... But Leonard was born into war. It was war when he was a poor boy scrapping over food. It was war at the Academy. It was war against the pirates. And now it's war against civilization  

It isn't so easy to change a life.

(A quiet voice reminds him that Spock did it. The son of nobility has become a poor farmer. To stay with Leonard, Spock lowered himself as far as society goes.)

Leonard pushes thoughts of the war from his mind and lifts his chin instead.

Spock kisses him softly, just as he did that first time in London, and Leonard relaxes into him.

Never mind the sea. This is Leonard's home.


	12. Mise En Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t, pre-slash, _hell's kitchen_ au

Spock takes a seat behind his desk, sitting down with a sigh. Across from him, Leonard kicks off his shoes. He lets out a soft moan as he does, and Spock winces in sympathy.

“That was bad.”

Spock sighs. Leonard isn’t wrong. The night’s service was a disaster. The blue team started out fine- they got through the appetizers without incident- but fell apart the moment Spock started calling main courses. The red team, though- the challenge victors who were previously on a three service win streak- were a mess from the first ticket.

It was the fifth service, not the first. The competitors ought to be progressing, but so far as the kitchen is concerned, neither is in any shape to win. Spock hasn’t even seen more than glimpses at leadership from either.

“How was the dining room?” he asks despite knowing the answer.

“Worse than the first night. Walk outs, constant complaints- I had to stop a customer from taking a swing at one of the junior servers over one of the kitchen’s errors.” He rubs at his face. “The kid was real shaken up, Spock. I had to send him home early.”

That is no surprise, though Spock feels sick for the server. The wait staff is critical to a good service, forget ensuring the continuance of the restaurant. They can make or break an experience, and Spock has always prided himself on keeping his staff happy.

His greatest effort on that front was hiring Leonard. He knew he would need a competent maitre d’ to head the front of the house, and while Leonard is not a conventional choice, he is the best one. Under the sharp tongue and- when not working- foul language is a smart, compassionate man. Combined with his honeyed accent and natural charisma, there are few people Leonard cannot charm. 

Spock chose him for Hell’s Kitchen for that very reason- and not, as some have alleged, simply because he has been at Spock’s side for the longest. Though he has. He witnessed Spock’s first, disastrous attempt at running a restaurant and, for reasons Spock cannot fathom, stuck around beyond.

It was Leonard who punched the reporter who insinuated that Spock was a disappointment to his famous father.

It was Leonard who shopped for linens and took pay cuts just to give Spock that little extra for their second attempt at a restaurant.

It was Leonard who goes where Spock goes, complaining all the way but always there. 

He is Spock’s right hand, closest friend, and confidant all rolled into one. He has followed Spock across the globe. He has been screamed at and physically assaulted. He endured a divorce because of his work with Spock.

And here he remains, as steadfast as he was that first day.

“I will have you talk to them before tomorrow’s challenge,” Spock tells him wearily. “Will the server be up to speaking?”

“I doubt it. Chekov’s a meek one- and barely eighteen. Even if he is up to it, I don’t want him going on TV like that. He doesn’t need to deal with that kind of attention.”

Spock nods, accepting Leonard’s reasoning. “I do not understand why this happens.”

Leonard snorts. “Please think back to opening night for Delight. You damn near burned the place down.”

“I did not.”

“Yes, you did.” Leonard is smiling softly at him. He does that sometimes, loses the sharp edge he’s had ever since he and Jocelyn began to have troubles. Spock had hoped that divorcing her would give his friend some sense of closure, but more often than not, Leonard has the harsh edge he learned during the last days of his marriage. It only happens around Spock, and Spock is certain it must mean something. He just isn’t certain what.

“Jim is coming tomorrow,” he reminds Leonard, who rolls his eyes.

“Already? I thought that son of a bitch wasn’t due for another few challenges.”

Despite his words, Leonard is smiling. He and Jim get along almost better than he and Spock do. Spock would be jealous if he didn’t know Leonard would never leave him. Jim has tried to weasel Leonard away countless times; it’s become a joke between them, one Spock has learned to tolerate.

“I want them to feel inspired, and there is no one who inspires the way James Kirk does.”

Leonard tilts his head to the side, expressing turning thoughtful. “I don’t know. The way I see it, the half-Vulcan son of a diplomat using only his own wits to become the first non-human to own a successful restaurant on earth is pretty damn inspirational.”

There it is. Leonard can be caustic with Spock, but there are other times, quiet times like this, when he softens into the man who Spock, without his permission, came to love. He loves the way Leonard pushes back at him, too, and Leonard’s brand of reluctant optimism. But there’s something about his gentler side that makes Spock’s heart race. Perhaps it’s because this is such a rare side. Leonard has learned to be guarded even around Spock. These flashes of who he is when he’s comfortable make Spock’s face heat and his heart beat fast.

“You gonna sleep here tonight?” Leonard asks.

Spock nods.

“I’m not going to bother reminding you that you’re not supposed to be doing that considering it won’t make you budge, but at least try to do some sleeping, won’t you?”

Spock nods again.

“You’re the worst liar I’ve ever seen.”

“Vulcans do not lie.”

“Yeah, well, you’re only half Vulcan.”

Spock quirks an eyebrow but isn’t actually offended; Leonard is one of a small group of people allowed to mention Spock’s controversial parentage- partly because Spock can’t seem to stop him from doing it.

Leonard blows out a long, tired breath before he gets to his feet. “I’m borrowing a pair of flip flops,” he says as he walks over to the closet. “I’d rather die than put those shoes back on.”

The flip flops are there expressly for Leonard’s use, not that Spock will ever admit that. His chef’s shoes were constructed specifically to be safe and comfortable; he has no need to change them. Leonard’s dress shoes, even with their comfort insoles, were decidedly not, as Spock well knows. The flip flops cost barely ten dollars, but given the smiles they’ve gotten from Leonard’s exhausted face, Spock would have paid ten times that.

“I guess this is goodnight,” Leonard says when he emerges.

“It is. Be safe, Leonard.”

“Always am.” 

With that, Leonard grabs his shoes and leaves. Spock watches him go, eyes drawn to the wide line of Leonard’s shoulders until Leonard rounds a corner and disappears. He fights a sigh. 

Tomorrow is going to be a disaster; he can feel it already. But he will have Leonard with him again, and Spock will survive it. He always does.


	13. All Shall Be Made Bright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> g, old!'verse
> 
> for karikes

The community is quiet, remote. It’s a little village filled with little old folk. There is a pool and a golf course. The main building hosts square dancing on Sunday nights and movie marathons on Tuesdays.

Spock has lived here for nearly four years. His home is small.

His husband more than fills it.

Leonard is asleep now- he likes his afternoon naps- and Spock smiles, brushes a stray lock of hair from Leonard’s eyes. It’s still strange to live here, on earth, with a loud man who Spock once thought hated him. 

The truth was far from that. 

It hurts Spock’s heart to think of Leonard, newly divorced and fragile, finding himself attracted to him. Thinking his feelings would never be returned.

But they were returned. Are returned. 

Leonard snuffles in his sleep, wriggling closer to Spock. His hair has long since gone gray; his face is heavily lined. His breaths come shallow.

He is old.

There is no avoiding that. No euphemism that can make Spock, who is in the middle of his lifespan, forget that Leonard is at the end of his. His bones are brittle. The flesh has left his shoulders. He gets cold easily. He cannot digest certain foods. Every morning, he swallows his handful of pills with a wince.

Yet his temperament remains the same. He is irascible. Incorrigible. Playful. Everyone knows he has a healer’s serenity, but the few he’s gotten close to know him as a trickster as well.

He likes his walks- likes them even more when Spock goes with him and they make their rounds hand in hand.

Beside Spock on the bed, his phone chirps an alarm. Spock turns it off without looking, more interested in the way Leonard stirs from his nap. His eyelashes flutter, and he lets out a long groan as he stretches.

“What time is it?” he asks around a yawn.

“It is four o’clock.”

“Already?” 

“There is no reason you cannot continue to sleep,” Spock points out. “We promised to go swimming at seven, so you have more time. And we can always cancel.”

Leonard snorts. “And endure Lana’s ire? No thank you.”

He is right to be wary. Their swimming partners are generally good natured, but Mrs. Chen is a singular woman. She hates to have her routine disturbed in any way. Spock isn’t certain how Leonard came to be on a first name basis with her- something no one else is. Spock is too old for jealousy, too comfortable in his certainty of Leonard’s affections to doubt them.

That doesn’t mean he has to like it when Mrs. Chen puts her hand on Leonard’s chest and laughs like Leonard is the funniest man she’s ever known.

Spock knows for a fact that Leonard is not that funny.

“Hey.” Leonard nudges him. “What’s got you making that face?”

“I am not ‘making a face’.”

Leonard rolls his eyes. “Sure you’re not.” He gets up slowly. “I’m gonna go make a snack. You want anything?”

Another thing that has not changed: Leonard’s appetite. He may not be able to eat everything in sight as he once could, but that has not stopped him from eating what he can.

“If you would bring me an apple, I would appreciate it.”

Leonard nods and walks out.

Spock watches him go. He doubts he will ever entirely lose interest in Leonard- in every facet of him. He is different from the young man who yelled at Spock on the  _ Enterprise _ , but that change has not been wholly for the worse. 

Certainly the increased interest in cuddling and touching fingertips has been pleasant.

When he returns, Leonard is holding a bowl of cold macaroni and cheese and an apple. He hands the apple over without fanfare- probably because he’s looking to stay in Spock’s good graces while he eats like an animal.

“We own a microwave,” Spock reminds him, fighting a sigh. “It would take less than a minute to heat your food.”

“Maybe I like it cold.”

“You do not.”

“Do, too.”

_ “Leonard.” _

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“Sometimes, you disgust me.”

Leonard beams at him around a mouthful of macaroni. “Aw, Spock-”

“Please do not speak when you have food in your mouth. I have met your mother. She raised you better than this.”

Swallowing down his mouthful, Leonard smiles at him again, softer this time, though his eyes are dancing. “Ah, but I roomed with Jim for four years.” 

Spock shivers. Jim is his best friend, but he could never live with him. 

Leonard smiles at him knowingly. “I’m a much better roommate.”

“That says very little.”

Expression turning sly, Leonard leans in. “I think you like me plenty.”

Spock knows what Leonard wants and leans away instinctively. “I am not kissing you right now.”

“Aw, come on! Live a little!”

“I am living enough, thank you.” Craning his neck, Spock brushes a kiss to Leonard’s forehead. “Are you happy now?”

“It will do.” 

Spock shakes his head fondly. He will miss Leonard when he’s gone. It will be a sorry existence after his death- no being can possibly grant him what Leonard has. No one could ever be so generous, so infuriating, so  _ alive _ .

“Stop thinking about me dyin’,” Leonard grouches. 

“I was not-”

“Yes, you were.” Leonard nudges Spock with a foot. “You get this look when you think about it, and I’ve figured it out. So I’m tellin’ you- quit worrying about things you can’t change. Enjoy me while I last.”

Spock takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. “You are a singular man, Leonard.”

Leonard hums. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“There is a law here in Florida  that prohibits unmarried women from parachuting on Sunday. The punishment is potential arrest, fine, and/or jailing. ”

Leonard’s lips quirk up on one side. “I can’t tell if you’re being more endearing or obnoxious.”

“Why not both?”

“Why indeed.” 

Leonard keeps eating his cold macaroni, but he holds out a hand, fingers extended, which Spock happily takes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a reminder: if you'd like to prompt me, you can do it here or on tumblr, where my username is karlurbansvevo


	14. Statuesque

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> g, alternate universe where leonard initially isn't part of the crew

Humans, Spock has long known, are prone to bouts of absurdity- particularly when it comes to rituals. Even the most logical among them is prone to bouts of superstition. Not stepping on cracks, growing dismayed at broken mirrors, not wearing certain colors... It's all nonsense, and humans, by and large, know so despite taking part.

This time, however, Spock finds himself standing in line to kiss a statue, and all of the humans around him are buzzing with excitement.

Spock resisted the crew's invitation to go with him to kiss the statue- "it's like the Blarney Stone!"- but gave in when Jim sighed and told them not to bother.

"Do you know the history of the Doctor?" Chekov asks from one place ahead.

Spock shakes his head. "I was unaware such a display existed before today."

"It is the work of the sculptor Jocelyn," Chekov says with a bob of his head. "She was a sculptor from the early days of space exploration. Supposedly she was getting materials from planets even we have not explored."

Spock resists the urge to snort. As if one human, with no system to protect her, could do such a thing.

"The Doctor is the piece that remains."

"Then perhaps it belongs in a museum, rather than out here."

Chekov ruffles his hair. "Probably. But once the legend got out-"

"What legend?"

"That if the right person kisses the Doctor, he will come to life."

Spock raises one eyebrow, and Chekov flushes.

"I realizes it is not logical," he says helplessly, "but there is something compelling about him, no?"

They are close enough for Spock to check the statue's features. They are indeed fine: tall, stocky body; large hands; pointed chin. In a human, they would be handsome. In a chunk of glorified marble, they are merely evidence of the sculptor's skill. Realistic though the statue is- and it is- that is all it is. A facsimile of life. An echo.

The line moves forward, and Jim steps up to place a kiss on the Doctor's lips. He doesn't linger, and the statue doesn't come to life.  
Nor does it awaken for Sulu or Nyota or Scott or Chekov.

Spock expects the same to be true for him. Yet he can't help but feel a fluttering in his stomach as Chekov walks away and he steps forward.

He ought to be repulsed by the idea of all the beings whose saliva- or equivalent- is likely slathered across the statue's mouth. Instead, he finds himself captivated by the soft, plush-looking mouth. The half-lidded eyes.  
He finds himself raising a hand to touch the statue's cheek but doesn't stop himself from touching.

The material is cool to the touch.

He leans in and presses his lips to the statue's. They're warmer from the string of people that have kissed them, the material they're made of smooth.

He hears someone very close draw in a sharp breath through their nose. Embarrassed, he makes to pull away, only for the mouth under his to mold itself to his.

He opens his eyes, and instead of smooth white mineral, he's faced with all too human skin and wide hazel eyes.

He stumbles back.

The statue- the man- tilts his head. "Well, that was unexpected."


	15. Ten Thousand Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t, modern au, _person of interest_ au, established relationship

Leonard McCoy is an alias. Spock would never be so sloppy as to refer to his associate by his birth name. Even when that name has long since been listed as a dead man's. So Mr. McCoy it is.

(Spock himself has only been Spock for a few months.)

There is something remarkably intimate about calling his associate Leonard, and Spock has always striven to be anything but intimate with his associates. They are expendable by their very nature; even Leonard, with his medic's hands and indomitable will, must one day be sacrificed in this fight of theirs. One way or another.

The Machine tells Spock that something bad is going to happen and that someone is involved. It never says whether they will be innocent or guilty, only that they are important. Spock should look closely at them.

Jim built this back door, and he died using the Machine's intelligence to save people Spock was too cold to save.

Perhaps if he had been more like Jim, his best friend would have lived.

Spock is considering this and the lonely life he's had to lead when he hears the soft footfalls of a familiar pair of dress shoes.

"Hello, Mr. McCoy," Spock says into the darkness. Their hidey hole is an abandoned library; his voice echoes slightly.

McCoy huffs and materializes a few feet away. "No sneaking up on you, is there?"

"I do not know why you wish to sneak up on me," Spock says flatly.

McCoy merely shakes his head. "'M just glad you heard me comin'. Means you'll be ready if someone else tries."

Spock tenses when McCoy leans in- his associate is a dangerous man- but McCoy only wants a kiss. Spock obliges readily.

He knows this is a bad idea. His associates are disposable. McCoy can and likely will die trying to save someone. And Spock will have to find his replacement quickly. There will be no time to mourn. His previous associates' deaths were difficult for him- was it not the point of what they do to save lives?- but McCoy...  
Spock knows that losing this man will break him.

But at least he'll have the taste of McCoy's lips, the feeling of his hands on Spock's hips, the memory of his teeth on Spock's skin, to comfort him.

"Well," McCoy drawls as he pulls back, "what's goin' on today? I got your text that we've got another person needs savin'."

"Or locking up," Spock corrects. "And his name is Hikaru Suly. He's a former military man, much like you."

"Going from the medals, not like me at all," McCoy says mildly as he looks over the board Spock set up with all the information he could find about Sulu. "He was the Air Force's golden boy, it seems. What's he into?"

"You'll have to discover that yourself."

"Not like I haven't had to do that before." McCoy shrugs, but Spock sees the tightness in his lips. His associate was far from a golden boy- something that went against the grain, as Spock well knows. "Come here."

McCoy does, one eyebrow quirked.

Spock fits his hands to McCoy's face. "I am glad that I have you, Leonard," he says softly. "I could not do this on my own."

Leonard relaxes and turns his head to press a kiss to the palm of Spock's hand. "I bet you say that to all the boys."

"Hardly." Spock pulls away. "Now go. Sulu could be in danger."

Nodding, Leonard saunters away.

Spock can't help but watch him go, the old fear that this will be the last he sees of McCoy creeping up his throat. The only thing he can do is try to give McCoy an edge. And that means putting his head down and working. He can think about the breadth of McCoy's _assets_ later. 


	16. Podcasting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t, modern setting, pre-relationship, vaguely inspired by mbmbam

"Drop his ass," Leonard says the moment Jim finishes reading out the question. "Drop this lazy dog's ass and find yourself somebody useful."

Spock raises his eyebrows. "That is illogical," he points out. "It is a two-year relationship. There is significant emotional and monetary investment-"   
"If he can't be bothered to clean up after himself, or at least try, he won't be bothered to do anything else." Leonard shakes his head. "Having a partner who doesn't carry their weight is worse than having no partner at all."

"Surely having words with her boyfriend would be more productive than ending the relationship."   
"You think she hasn't?" Leonard asks. He quirks one of his own eyebrows in challenge. 

"It is possible,” Spock allows. 

"Unlikely, though." Leonard tilts his head. "But let's say she hasn't. How long does she give him to clean up his act and help out?"

Spock anticipated this. "One week."   
Leonard shakes his head. "If she's got the get up and go to write in, she's got enough to leave. The longer she stays, the harder it's going to be."

“You are being excessively hard on this man.”

“I've been him.” Leonard looks away. “I've been the guy taking his partner for granted, and now I've got an ex who hates me and a kid I never see.”

This part will get cut. Jim rarely keeps in the personal bits. Spock is certain that this part, something they’ve hashed out before, won’t make it, which is why he feels bold enough to say, “That is not what happened with Jocelyn, Leonard. She cheated on you.”

“Yeah, but if I'd actually been there-”

“You were a resident,” Spock reminds him. He keeps his tone matter of fact; Leonard will only bristle if he senses that Spock is being soft with him rather than logical. “You had other responsibilities.”

Leonard shrugs, and Spock's chest feels suddenly too tight. They've become good friends over the months their podcast has been going. It hurts to see Leonard, who is usually full of fire and fight, rolling over and taking all the blame. 

Spock wishes he could reach over and touch Leonard. It's a useless impulse; no amount of contact will ease Leonard’s guilt. But Spock wants to do it nonetheless. 

Instead, he folds his hands in his lap. His attraction to Leonard, while understandable, is beginning to interfere with his reasoning. Leonard is his colleague. He deserves to work with someone who isn't constantly thinking about stripping him naked and showing him how desirable he is. He deserves someone who will ameliorate his ill moods rather than provoke them. 

“Being busy is not the same as being neglectful,” Spock continues. “You did what you could. It was not enough, but it was all that could be done.”

Leonard blinks at him for a long moment. “Do you know, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me?” He chuckles to himself. “I thought you hated me for the first six months we worked together.”

Spock’s chest clenches. They've only been working together for seven months. “I may not be effusive, but I thought my respect for you was obvious.”

“Maybe I'm only just starting to learn how to read you.” There's something suggestive in Leonard’s voice, something soft and warm and inviting. 

Spock clears his throat, but he's interrupted by Jim. 

“Any time you two lovebirds want to get back on topic would be great.”

Leonard rolls his eyes and flips Jim off.

But they do get back on track. 

The urge to reach out and touch him doesn't quite go away, though. 


	17. Speeches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t, modern (maybe?) au, inspired by the west wing   
> big thanks to karikes for making me watch scandal, which made me think of this 'verse  
> and big thanks to jessicamiriamdrew for proofreading

"It's too weak," Leonard says, shaking his head at his tablet. "We need the president to send a message with this speech-"

"We do," Spock agrees. "But it should be measured. We need the centrists to get on board-"

Leonard narrows his eyes, anger flaring. "Fuck the centrists."

Spock resists the urge to put a hand on Leonard's arm. They're standing scant inches apart in Spock's office, arguing about the latest draft of the president's speech following a spree of hate crimes. Leonard is a passionate man in the calmest of circumstances; in stressful times, he can easily become waspish and unkind. He’s looking for a fight, for something to do with his anger. The president can calm him with just a touch. 

Spock lacks Jim’s history with Leonard, however. It is not his right to touch his colleague.

Folding his arms, he tilts his head. "I know this is difficult for you-"

"Fuck me- it's about you!" Leonard snaps. He takes a breath, visibly forcing himself to calm down. "You're the halfling, Spock. It's people like you that are being targeted."

Spock feels his eyebrows creep up his forehead despite knowing the word is meant without malice. "I am aware of my status, Leonard."

Leonard's expression hardens. "Then how can you be so calm? You'd be next if they could get hold of you."

"I have no doubt of the group's ill intentions. Nevertheless, it is necessary to pool our allies in this time of crisis."

"If the centrists- hell, if any of the old fucks in their political foxholes can't find it in them to condemn murderers, then I'd say they're not the kind of allies you need."

"And what kind should I forsake them for?" Spock asks. "Ones who will fly off the handle and get themselves killed?"

Leonard shrugs, relenting. "At least you know I'd be there for you."

And with that, he turns and stalks out to his own office. Spock watches him go with a tight feeling in his chest. It isn't his job to calm Leonard down, and he knows the man will be back soon for another round. Nevertheless, the concern- and that’s what this is, what Leonard’s rage nearly always is- is touching.

Spock does not need to be lectured on the merits of having strong advocates, let alone by Leonard. He is more than used to begging for scraps of legitimacy from humans and non-humans alike. It has been clear from his childhood that this battle- this struggle for legitimacy- is his to fight.

Yet he can't help but be glad to have Leonard behind him. For all his faults and missteps- and there are many- Leonard is indeed the type to show up. Likely with a sign in one hand and a medkit in the other.

Leonard is the sort of person that makes Spock wonder if maybe he could do something with those long looks he catches Leonard giving him. Maybe, if he's reading this right, he could be safe with Leonard.

A few offices down, someone yelps.

Spock recognizes the voice as belonging to Pavel, the personal aide to the president, and sighs- the poor kid can't catch a break.

It isn't long before Leonard comes marching in, Pavel towed behind him.

"Watch him and find whatever he came for while I grab his change of clothes,” he says wearily. “Oh, and don't offer him coffee. He's wearing the last cup he asked for."

Spock gestures for Pavel to sit down as Leonard jogs away.

No sooner has the door shut than Pavel is sitting up, eyes alight, and asking, "So, how long have you and Mr. McCoy been together?"

“Are you asking for yourself or the president?”

Pavel grins. “Why not both?”

Spock bites his cheek. He likes Pavel enough not to chew the boy out for being saucy. 

Jim has been trying to set Spock up with Leonard from the moment he dragged his fiery friend out from the clinic and into the administration. Spock had initially been skeptical of Leonard’s manner of writing. It’s as passionate as Leonard is, often lacks refinement, and has edged perilously close to insulting. But he makes solid points, and there’s something alluring about the revolution Leonard’s writing insists there will be.

Leonard is an open man. His personal life got dragged through the mud when his appointment was announced, even though he isn’t the head writer. He endured it all with admirable public poise and a worrisome amount of alcohol in private, and Spock caught himself falling hard for the man behind the rhetoric.

How Jim found out about Spock’s feelings- which Spock hasn’t even confided to Nyota- is a mystery. 

Shaking his head, he refocuses on Pavel. “Leonard and I are coworkers. That is all.”

“Really?” Pavel frowns. “The president thinks otherwise.”

Of course Jim has Pavel doing his dirty work. “The president is an intelligent man,” Spock says firmly, “but he is not the most gifted at reading the nuances of relationships.”

Pavel shrugs. “If you say so, Mr. Spock. All I know is the president thinks his best friend is in love with you.”

“Mr. Chekov,” Spock warns, only for Leonard to reappear. There’s a suit draped over one arm.

“Everything all right in here?” he asks, raising both eyebrows. “Did you get what the president wanted, Pavel?”

“Yes, Mr. McCoy,” Pavel says brightly as he hops to his feet. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Leonard nods and hands over the clothes, which Pavel takes before jogging away.

“So what was that all about?”

Spock shakes his head. “Just the president being nosy. It is nothing of concern.”

“Jim is always of concern,” Leonard points out. He takes a seat on the couch Pavel just located, lifting one leg to cross his ankle over one thick thigh. “Was it personal?”

“It is always personal.”

Leonard hums, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “That’s Jim for you.” His lips twitch into a half-smile. “What do you say we go over tomorrow’s speech again?”

“Leonard, it is 2:44 AM.”

“Today’s speech, then.”

After a moment’s thought- humans require more rest than Vulcans, even halflings like Spock, and they do have twelve hours until the press conference- Spock nods. “Yes, I believe we have much revising to do.”


	18. President Leonard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> explicit, established relationship, again set in the west wing 'verse only this time leonard is the president and spock is his chief of staff  
> credit for the idea of the sex goes to jessicamiriamdrew, which saved me so much agony
> 
> content warning: technically, spock and leonard's relationship is an abuse of power (leonard being spock's superior and, you know, potus)

Leonard is a lot of things. Being President of the United States must, for the next three or seven years, be the most important. It must come before being a divorcé. It must come before being a friend. Before being a doctor. Before being a father. Even when he returns to the residential wing, he has to live and breathe his position.

Jim understands that. He also understands that as VP, he could inherit the weight Leonard carries at any moment.

Spock on the other hand...

"I'm supposed to be practicing this speech," Leonard hisses.

Spock, who is currently squeezed under Leonard's desk and pulling Leonard's pants down.

"Spock!"

"You are more than the president," Spock says evenly as he abandons Leonard's pants and moves onto his underwear. "You will work yourself to death if you do not take breaks."

"Coffee and donuts is a break," Leonard points out. "This is a little more than that."

Spock sighs and leans forward so he can poke his head up behind the desk. "Sex is good for humans. I meant to pursue you last week, but then there was the tsunami..."

Leonard rubs at his eyes. This is what the presidency has brought him: very little legislation from a do-nothing Congress and the mind-blowing experience of considering turning down a blowjob from Spock.

He knows it would be beyond bad if their relationship got out. America may have accepted a gay man to lead it, but it did so with the expectation that he would not get impeached in his first year over an inappropriate relationship with his relationship with his chief of staff.

Yet Leonard can't find it in him to say no or move away when Spock dips his head and presses a kiss to Leonard's inner thigh. He doesn't flinch or protest when Spock licks the head of Leonard's cock. He merely spreads his thighs and watches, transfixed, as Spock wraps a hand around his shaft and takes the head into his mouth.

Spock sucks and strokes Leonard until he's hard, then pulls away.

"Spock," Leonard warns, well used to his right hand man's tendency to draw things out. "Now is not the time to play around."

"As you wish." That's all the warning Leonard gets before Spock takes his cock in all the way.

Leonard bites his tongue, fighting the urge to groan. If he leans back far enough, he can just see the Spock's upper lip where it's stretched around him. Hidden away from view, Spock swallows around him, the tip of Leonard's dick nudging the back of his throat.

Leonard doesn't know how he does it without gagging, and frankly, he doesn't really care. Whatever the cause, he's happy to reap the benefits.

Spock pulls back eventually, his mouth sliding off Leonard just long enough for him to murmur a raspy, "Please."

They've been doing this long enough that Leonard knows what Spock wants. It's awkward, trying to get the leverage to fuck Spock's mouth while reclining enough to watch, but Leonard figures it out. It's not the hardest fuck he's ever given Spock, but it's good enough that Spock is breathing hard around him and whining. His hands are on Leonard's hips, tugging him in deeper, and Leonard is in serious danger of falling out of his chair, but he doesn't care. All he can think about is Spock swallowing him down, and how good it feels- how fucking incredible it is to be fucking Spock's mouth in the Oval goddamn Office.

When he comes, he bites his fist to keep from shouting.

Spock swallows it down without complaint or surprise. He's slow to let Leonard's softening cock fall from his mouth, instead sucking, then licking at, it until Leonard has to stop him.

"Too much," he mumbles, gently tucking himself back into his clothes. He scoots back afterwards to let Spock emerge.

Spock takes a moment to unfurl himself, but once he does, Leonard grabs his blazer and tugs him down for a kiss.

He's gotten used to the taste of himself in Spock's mouth, has even come to enjoy it- though not as much as Spock does.

"You should go to bed," Spock says when they part. "I have never known you not to deliver your speeches correctly."

"That's all you have to say?" Leonard asks, looking pointedly to where Spock's pants are tented.

Spock shifts his weight. "I can take care of this myself, Leonard."

"And you'll... what? Walk past the sentries with a binder in front of your crotch like a kid?"

"If I must."

"Spock..."

"Go to sleep, Mr. President." Spock runs his fingers through Leonard's damp hair. His lips quirk. "Though it may be wise to wait a few minutes."

Leonard swats at him, but Spock dodges him deftly. "I will check on you in the morning, sir."

"You'll come early?"

Spock gives him a look that says he knows what Leonard is doing. "I will come when it is appropriate. Good night."

Leonard watches him- and a spare binder- go with a sigh. This is Jim's fault. He just had to suggest Spock for chief of staff, didn't he?


	19. Logistics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t, another take on the presidential au  
> references to previous jim/bones and spock/nyota

This is too much. "Leonard, go home," Spock orders. "You do not belong here."

  
Leonard stiffens. "Yes, sir." He turns swiftly and makes for the door.

  
Spock immediately wishes he had been less sharp- the situation is bearing down on all of them, and yes, Leonard should be at home or with Jocelyn rather than in the White House. Not that Leonard's ex will want to see him now, considering their daughter just got kidnapped for political leverage. Still, Spock knows his friend. Being useless, as they all are now, must grate tremendously on Leonard.

  
"Leonard."

  
Leonard pauses at the door, casts a look over his shoulder. "Yes, sir?"

  
"Come here."

  
Ever dutiful- and ever wary- Leonard does. He comes to a stop just out of Spock's reach.

  
"We will get her back," Spock promises, resolutely not reaching for him. "The best people in the world are looking for her right now. Our allies are scouring the world with us. Jo will come home."

  
"Yeah?" Leonard's fists clench. "In how many pieces?"

  
"Leonard..."

  
"Forget I said that." He shakes his head. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. President?"

  
"Go home and get your things. You're staying here with me until we get Jo back."

Leonard only nods, but Spock can see the relief on his face.

xx

People have long called Leonard Spock's attack dog, and with good reason. There is no more vocal ally of the administration, no fiercer defender of Spock, than Leonard. He snarled his way through interview after interview during the campaign trail and laid an unshakable groundwork for Spock's first term. He publicly staked his good name on Spock's ability to lead. He's made sure Spock lives up to every promise he made.

  
He rules the staffers with an iron grasp. More than one of the interns calls him a tyrant.  
Spock suspects it's less a natural inclination to dictate and more paranoia that something will go wrong on his watch.

  
At least, that's what Jim insists, and Jim has known Leonard nearly his entire life. There's obviously more to it than simple friendship between them. They have an ease with each other Spock can only relate to his relationship with Nyota. They have known each other intimately and emerged, if not a pair, then a happy sort of similar.

  
Spock is not envious of that, nor does he feel jealous of Leonard- he can't be jealous of what he doesn't possess, after all.

xx

Jo does get home safe. Her abductors get caught attempting to smuggle her onto a plane headed somewhere Spock isn't especially interested in hearing about at the moment. There will be repercussions- there must always be repercussions- and there will be talks, but those are for later.

  
For now, Spock is looking on in relief as Leonard holds his daughter close.

  
Later, Leonard will come up to him, overnight bag under his arm, and thank him. The thanks will be gentle in a way Leonard rarely is.  
After that, he will go on network TV and deliver a scathing rant against terrorism that somehow lifts the blame from the administration. Spock won't know what to make of it.

  
But that won't happen for hours.

  
For now, Leonard is bringing Jo over to Spock, and Spock’s suit is about to get wrinkled by shaking adolescent hands.

xx

Spock and Leonard have never seen eye to eye. Spock embraced Vulcan and the serenity of logic. Leonard has never known serenity- and given his irascible nature, probably never cared to look for it in the first place.  
Yet Spock can think of no one he would rather lean on. Not even Jim, his VP. Jim is smooth and an exceptional leader, and he could command the staff if he chose to do so. But he isn't good at playing politics. He's too much of a rogue, too much a bleeding heart.

  
Leonard, however, knows everything there is to know about everyone there is to know. He claims the government is like a body- once you know the basics, the rest fallsbinto place.  
(If he's been drinking, what he says will come out a great deal more like, “Once you know where to push, the whole thing will fall the fuck apart.” Spock pretends he doesn't hear that.)

  
So when Spock needs to get a bill pushed through in the wake of an emergency down South, Leonard just sighs and tells his staffers to get him a list of who's holding out.

xx

Nyota takes one look at Spock on the first day of his vacation and shakes her head. “You're still pining, aren't you?”

  
“I am the leader of the free world.”

  
“That's nice. I've seen your balls.”

  
“Nyota, please,” Spock says, pained.

  
Nyota merely raises her eyebrows. “What's wrong, Mr. Leader Of The Free World?”

  
Spock glares at her, but she just pours herself another drink and slides his own glass of wine closer. Spock reluctantly takes it and takes a sip.

  
“Good, right?” Nyota asks. He nods, and she smiles at him. “Now, take a few more sips, then pretend you're drunk so we can get to the juicy stuff.”

  
This is not a mature way to handle a crush, but Spock is going out of his mind handling it maturely. Perhaps this method will yield better results.

xx

The results are the same (Leonard remains unattainable, and Spock is unable to move on), only Spock winds up hungover now, too.

xx

If it were up to Spock, Leonard would be exempted from the dress code. The smartly tailored jackets and fitted trousers only distract Spock. He can't think about policy when Leonard is dressed up. All he can think about is the curve of Leonard’s ass, his long thighs, his sturdy shoulders.

  
If it were up to Spock, Leonard wouldn't wear anything at all, and the only person around to see would be Spock.

xx

They lose a major battle during their attempt at overhauling Social Security. Everyone is down, including Spock.

  
Leonard comes over with a glass of something that makes Spock’s nose tingle in one hand and a chocolate bar in the other.

  
“We fought the good fight,” he says gently as he comes to rest with his hip braced on the desk beside Spock. “We gave those old fucks a run for their money. We didn't lose by as much as everyone thought we would. That's something.”

  
“It will be cold comfort to those who need the changes,” Spock replies.

  
Leonard hums his agreement. “Come on. Everybody’s getting hammered.”

  
“I am the president-”

  
“Not tonight you're not.”

  
Leonard hands over the chocolate bar.

  
After a moment, Spock accepts it.

xx

Leonard is warm where he's lying under Spock. His body is soft and compelling; Spock never wants to get up. And for once in his life, he allows himself to indulge. He listens to the soft sounds of Leonard's breathing and tries to match his own to it. He flexes his fingers against the muscular shoulder under his hand. He inhales delicately, and his senses fill with Leonard, the scent warm and dark and familiar.

  
“You awake?”

  
Spock freezes. “I am,” he says after a moment. He doesn't move.

  
Leonard doesn't move either. “We’ll try again.”

  
“And we will encounter the same resistance.”

  
“But we’ll be different. We know what attacks they'll use. The lies they'll spread. And this time, we’ll knock our way through.”

  
“A typically human approach.”

  
Leonard huffs a laugh, a companionable arm sneaking around Spock. “Sometimes stoicism and logic have to give way to passion, Mr. President.”

  
Spock thinks about that long after he and Leonard have gone their separate ways. Stoicism has brought Spock a great deal of calm in his tumultuous life. Logic has given him direction and comfort.

  
But neither has brought him happiness.

xx

In another life, Leonard McCoy was a doctor. A pioneer of modern medicine. He looked at the impossible tangle of mysteries and combed them into logic. He saved countless lives.  
Spock looks down at the green blood flowing between Leonard’s fingers where they're pressed to Spock’s side and thinks, If anyone can save me, it's him.

xx

Jim went on the news and did what he was born to do: he took up the mantle of comforter in chief and reassured a volatile nation. He stood before the whole of America and acknowledged their fears and gently soothed them. He was the epitome of a true statesman, able to use his personal fears for Spock’s life and transform them in a weapon to beat back the creeping threat of a nation turning against itself.

  
Leonard, on the other hand, is invisible.  
Spock knows without being told that this is deliberate. Better a succinct message from the press secretary than Leonard dragging them all onto the warpath against an enemy they can't possibly conquer.

  
It takes Leonard a week to show up. When he does, he's dressed impeccably.

  
He tries to talk about Spock’s return to the helm, but all Spock can hear is the sound of Leonard barking orders- at the Secret Service agents, at the first responders, at Spock himself. He was Dr. McCoy again in that moment, no longer a desk-soft bureaucrat but a man fighting off death with nothing but his own fists.

  
“You saved me,” Spock says, interrupting Leonard.

  
Leonard scowls at him. “I may be your chief of staff at the moment, but I’m still a surgeon, Mr. President. I know how to handle a gunshot wound. Now, about that prick Senator Hall…”

  
And that's all they say about that.

xx

Sometimes interviewers ask what Spock would most like to have the power to do. They mean as president. If he could make one bill into law, if he could get Congress to act on one thing, if he could make the judicial branch see his side of things…

  
The truth is, there is only one thing Spock would like to have the power to do, and that is kiss Leonard.

  
He may as well ask for the power to blow a hurricane back out to sea with a flick of his wrist.

xx

His second term comes to a close. The latest batch of candidates has battled it out. Spock’s party’s nominee won comfortably, and Spock is glad for her, in the sense that he can understand the triumph that is winning a nation’s support. He also pities her.

  
She will lose much over the next four, possibly eight, years. She will think she is ready. She is not. No one is. No one ever could be.  
Spock gladly begins to pack his belongings.

xx

The inauguration is over. The era of President Spock has come to a quiet end, and America can now look to President Rand. Spock feels lighter, and emptier, than he ever has before.  
He turns to leave, only to run into Leonard. His former chief of staff is bundled up warmly against the January chill, but his exposed nose and his cheeks have turned pink. Spock briefly thinks about reaching out and touching his fingers to Leonard's flushed skin.

  
Instead, he curls his hands into fists at his sides.

  
“Leonard,” he says, not bothering to hide his surprise. “I thought you were with Jim.”  
Leonard shrugs. “I was for a while, but then he and Scotty got talking. Figured it was time to make different company.”

  
Spock nods in understanding, remembering the last time he was caught in a room with Jim and Scotty and the two of them got to talking about engines.

  
It feels strange to think that will never happen again.

  
“You have elected to return to work as a doctor here on earth, correct?”

  
Leonard tilts his head, brows furrowing.

“Atlanta’s got a new hospital that needs some heads of departments. There's an opening at my alma mater for me as a lecturer on xenopsychology, though- I guess since I spent eight years wrangling your green ass, they figure I know a thing or two about alien brains.”

  
“Doctor, that amount of extrapolation is more than illogical. It is dangerous to assume one species’ culture is at all similar to another’s-” Leonard is grinning at him, and Spock cuts himself off abruptly. “Your original field of work bridged the gap between traditional human medicine and xenoanthropology,” he says slowly, memory dawning. “You pioneered a technique for treating traumatized Andorians. Of course they want you.”

  
Leonard’s expression softens. “Yeah. It's a nice job. I'm just not sure it's for me.”

  
“You are not yet ready to return to medicine?”

  
“It's not that.”

  
“Then what?”

  
One of Leonard's eyebrows quirks. “I think you know why.”

  
“Leonard…”

  
“You think I didn't notice?” he asks softly. “You think there was a single day when you were in office that I didn't want to take your hand and tell you you weren't alone?” He shakes his head. “You were the first non-human president, Spock. Any misstep, even a made up one, could have cost you- could have cost us all.”

  
Spock's heartbeat picks up, thrumming heavily in his side. “I am to understand, when you say that I am ‘not alone’ that you are referring to the… feelings I have developed for you?”

  
“Got it right in one.”

  
“And you have felt this way for years?”

  
Leonard shrugs.

  
“I… I find myself at a loss, Leonard. I do not know what to say.”

  
“How about you ask me out?”

  
“Pardon?”

  
“Ask me out, Spock,” Leonard says impatiently. “Say, ‘Leonard, I am attracted to you. Will you spend an evening in my company?’”

  
Spock blinks at him, still lost and trying to figure out how the conversation got so far out of hand.

  
Leonard sighs. “You know what? Why wait? You're here. I'm here. There's a great little deli not far that does vegetarian food. Let's grab something to eat.”

  
“What you are suggesting is considered a date, Leonard,” Spock says, his brain finally catching up.

  
“Glad you cottoned onto that.”

  
It would be so easy to tell him it's too soon. They're still in the spotlight. Their every move will still be scrutinized. They shouldn't be making waves. The new administration needs this time to be peaceful.

  
But Spock’s heart is hammering at the thought of taking Leonard's hand in his, of smoothing the wrinkle between his brows, of taking Leonard’s face in his hands and kissing him. And Leonard is smiling at him, just a quirk of his lips, but it's such a familiar gesture. It's warm and inviting, and Spock has never been one to take the easy way out.

  
“I would like to go with you, Leonard.”

  
“...But?”

  
“There is no but. I am accepting your invitation.”

  
Leonard’s smile grows wide enough that it looks like it hurts. “Come on, then,” he says softly, nudging at Spock with his elbow. “Let's get somewhere warm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is formatted so badly- i'm without my computer atm and editing on my phone is....... difficult


	20. two lefts don't make a right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> g, pre-relationship, canon 'verse  
> i'm pretty sure karikes asked for this a couple months ago lmao whoops

"I do not see the point of this exercise," Spock says, even as he makes his way to Leonard across the empty gym. 

Leonard shrugs. "Starfleet needs fundin’, darlin'. We mere mortals can only dance to their whims- literally, in this case." 

Spock, who had started to glare at the pet name, doesn't relax as he comes to a stop in front of Leonard. "But why, Doctor, are you to be my instructor?"

"Because, you obnoxious know-it-all, I was married to a national champion ballroom dancer who made sure I was competent in her sport of choice. Now stop complaining. You're not gettin' out of this."

Spock grimaces but gamely lays a hand on Leonard's waist. A broad hand. A hand with long, delicate fingers. 

Leonard swallows hard as he takes Spock's other hand- equally broad with equally delicate fingers- in his. Spock will be wearing gloves the night of the gala to keep his telepathy safely in hand as he'll be dancing with civilians rather than one of his oldest friends, but for now, his hands are bare.

"The waltz is has a basic three-beat step," Leonard says, pulling his attention away from their clasped hands. "For now we'll stick to a basic square and leave the fancy stuff for later."

Spock nods, his brow already furrowed in concentration.

"It always alternates between feet, so if you move your left foot, the next step will be with your right. Got it?"

Spock nods again.

"Great. Now you're going to take a step forward with your left foot. I'll mirror you. That's beat one." 

Spock takes a small step forward. 

"A normal sized step, if you can." Spock looks up from his foot and glowers. Leonard rolls his eyes. "You're a big guy, Spock. I know you take bigger steps than that."

Spock slides his foot an inch farther away. 

"More than that."

He slides it another inch. 

Leonard swings their joined hands so he can lightly knock Spock on the forehead. "Must you be difficult?" 

Finally, Spock lifts his foot and places it a decent distance away. Leonard, who moved his foot when Spock did, lets himself think warmly about Spock doing well. Spock doesn't reply, but the tips of his ears do darken a few shades. 

"Now it's a step to your left. Beat two."

This time, Spock gets it right in one. 

"And finally, bring your right foot to your left. Beat three."

Again, Spock manages it just fine. 

"Now you take a step back with your right foot."

Spock's grip on Leonard tightens as he takes a step that Leonard just knows is too big. 

"Easy. The waltz isn't about being flashy or contorting yourself. Bring your foot forward and try again."

Normally, Spock would be bristling at the direction, but here, with no one watching, he takes Leonard's guidance without fuss. He gets the step right on the second try, and Leonard takes a moment to think that Spock is getting the hang of this. 

He means the thought, even if he does also enjoy the green blush that creeps over Spock's features. 

_ Someone isn't used to being the student. _

They make it through another square and another and another, Spock's confidence growing with each pass until they make it around without pausing or misstepping. 

“Very good,” Leonard says as they come to a stop one final time. “I'm sure you're eager to move onto more advanced things, but I have to get back to Chapel. My work wife doesn't like it when I disappear for too long, and we’ve got a bet on the results of an experiment Geoffrey’s running.”

Spock nods sharply and takes a quick step back, releasing his grasp as he does. 

Leonard feels immediately colder. He ignores that, and the mild pang of loss, and pats Spock on the shoulder roughly enough to earn a glare. 

“We’ll have you gala ready in no time,” he says cheerfully.

“Indeed. You are a... sufficient teacher, Leonard. I did not give you enough credit when I was first informed I would be under your tutelage.”

Leonard doesn't bother getting worked up, merely rolls his eyes. “Typical. I'll forgive you this time, though, considerin’ you weren't aware of my background.”

“Noble of you.”

“I'm nothin’ but.” Leonard smiles up at Spock with his most charming smile. Spock merely regards him flatly, so Leonard flaps his hands at him. “Now go on. I know you've got a full schedule.”

Spock doesn't leave immediately, instead tilts his head and silently studies Leonard. Whatever he's looking for, he must find, because a moment later, he nods to himself. 

“You are correct,” he says softly. “Thank you for your instruction.” 

He doesn't wait for Leonard to reply before he turns on his heel and makes his way to the door. 

Leonard shakes his head. Teaching Spock to dance is either going to be the most fun he's had in a long time or the worst experience imaginable. 


End file.
